


The Life House

by Aza_Marael



Category: Bleach, Naruto
Genre: Amnesiac Sasuke, Character Study, I thought I should add as it develops haha, Put Sasuke into the Bleach universe and see what happens, So many OCs, So much death, Those OCs don't play a huge role tbh, kinda long prologue, lots of injuries, so many, welp
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2018-09-11 14:46:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 66,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8988784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aza_Marael/pseuds/Aza_Marael
Summary: When Uchiha Sasuke first awoke in the fiftieth district of South Rukongai, he was pissed. Waking up in a strange place with strange people and not remembering who you are or where you’re from is a real pain, especially when you’re sure it’s something important.





	1. If You're Seeing A Large, Ugly Nose, You're Probably Dead

**Author's Note:**

> As of writing this I’m not actually finished with the Naruto series, so forgive me for any discrepancies. :P When I finish it, if I find any discrepancies going back through it I’ll fix those. Otherwise, please point them out to me. ^^
> 
> I have no plans for doing any sort of pairings, before anyone inevitably asks, but if I find it fitting later in the story than I will. I’m not a big fan of romance, since they tend to overtake the plot, so don’t expect anything. 
> 
> Also, this starts many, many years before the beginning of the Bleach series.
> 
> I don’t own the universes or the characters (aside from the OCs), but please enjoy the story! ^^

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Begin the Fox Track Arc

**1942**

When Uchiha Sasuke first awoke in the fiftieth district of South Rukongai, he was pissed. Waking up in a strange place with strange people and not remembering who you are or where you’re from is a real pain, especially when you’re sure it’s something important. Of course, the large, ugly nose in his face wasn’t very helpful either.

Upon seeing him awake, the nose retreated, revealing the face it was attached to, a grin spreading just underneath it.

“So you’re finally awake, huh kid? Ya know, we had to carry you all the way here. Didn’t wake up for days.” His accent stretched words and vowels in unnecessary places, further adding to Sasuke’s irritation. Slowly, the raven-haired teen sat up, hand going through his thick, unruly hair to feel the throbbing and tender area somewhere in the back of his head. The man laughed sheepishly, showing off his gap-toothed smile. “Uh, yeah, sorry ‘bout that. We mighta’ dropped ya a few times.”

Sasuke stood slowly, testing his weight on his feet. He was clad in a simple cotton yukata, a blue color so dark it was nearly black. It was a simple thing, pulled loosely around him and tied at the waist. He was barefoot, but straw sandals sat neatly aligned by his feet, and after a moment, he put them on. He looked back up at the man, whose bright eyes squinted when he spoke. Sasuke would’ve thought it was because of the sunlight streaming through the only window, but clouds covered most of the sky and the sun wasn’t that bright.

“Where am I?”

“Fox Track, the fiftieth district of South Rukongai in Soul Society.” He recited, as if he’d already been asked this question a dozen times. Sasuke gave him a look, and the older man rolled his eyes. “You’re dead, kid. In the afterlife. A spirit. Ghost. D-E-A-D. _Dead_.” He grinned, holding out a hand as his attitude took a one-eighty. “So, what’s the name, kid? If you remember it, anyways.”

Sasuke stared at him for a long moment before answering. “Uchiha Sasuke.”

When their hands clasped in a polite greeting, the man’s gap-toothed grin widened. “Nice ta meet ya, Sasuke. I’m Hibiki Genji.” Sasuke only grunted in reply, but Genji seemed to pay it no mind. “Well, follow me, I’ll introduce you to the rest of the family.”

He waved at the younger man to follow him, stepping out of the quaint, feudal era room. The rest of the rather small home wasn’t much different from the bedroom. A small, tiny area seemed reserved for a sort of kitchen space, a small handmade wooden table set in the center of the room, where a single flower rested in a glass. Despite the simplicity of the home, and the open doorway that provided little security, there was a warm feeling about the place, a sort of joy that echoed from the walls.

“We stay here with four others at the moment, so don’t expect to get that bedroom all ta yerself.” Genji seemed to like grinning, seating himself rather comfortably at one of the many small stools surrounding the table.

Sasuke stayed standing for several moments, processing the information as he spoke. “Are they your family?”

The older man squinted at him. “Well, here in Rukongai, it’s next to impossible to find yer real folks if you didn’t arrive here with ‘em, so most of us live together with others.” He explained, shrugging before giving Sasuke a reassuring smile. “But don’ worry. These folks are nice people; we’re like a little family o’ our own.”

It was as he said those words that another entered the house; a young woman somewhere between Genji and Sasuke in age. She smiled at the two of them warmly, her arms full of a squirming child. Small hands pulled incessantly at her brown hair, mussing what must have once been a neat bun. Her expression was warm, but weary, as if she hadn’t slept in years.

“It’s good to see you’re finally awake.” She said, nodding at Sasuke. “My name is Sasaki Anna and this,” she gestured with a jerk of her chin to the child in her arms, “is my daughter Mio.”

Sasuke nodded. While for a moment he was going to question why she had been able to pass over with her daughter, one quick look at Mio told him that the two weren’t blood-related. Mio’s head was covered in bright red hair, her young face bright and her skin practically an ivory color compared to the dark mocha hue of Anna.

“Uchiha Sasuke.” Anna smiled and nodded in acknowledgement before her attention was taken by Mio, who had begun whining.

Genji nodded to himself. “The last one is a good kid, a few years younger than you. He’s probably out with his friends right now,” then he added with a mutter, “Unless he’s found a job.” Thinking for several moments, the old man seemed to come to a conclusion as he nodded to himself once more, this time more assuredly. “Anyways, his name’s Eita. Fujii Eita.”

There were several minutes of a comfortable silence as Anna passed the baby to Genji, who took the child happily, setting her on his lap and bouncing her around. Mio giggled, arms waving about as he made faces at her. Anna set immediately to work in the kitchen, only turning after a moment to see Sasuke still standing in the doorway leading to the bedroom, starting to look a little uncomfortable and out of place now. She smiled sympathetically.

“Dinner’s in an hour, so feel free to look around the village in the meantime. Once you get used to it here, I’m sure Genji can help you find a job or an apprenticeship.” She suggested, and Sasuke nodded, heading out the door.

He took a brief few moments to memorize the location and appearance of the small home—it was more of a shack really, with the multitudes of patches on the thatched roof—before taking off into the village, straw sandals stepping silently on the roads.

The village of Fox Track was a small place; Sasuke could easily jog from one end to the other in less than a day. Vendors crowded along the streets, trying to sell their wares against the storeowners standing outside of the shops. Children ran between the legs of the men and women, laughing and chasing one another, shoppers and potential customers smiling at their antics. There was an air of peace around the town, a close-knit feeling, as if all the town were a family.

There was something almost familiar about the feeling that spread through him, the aura of the village seeping into every object and being, a soul binding them all together. Fox Track itself was a living being, and the notion nudged at the dusty corners of Sasuke’s mind, a memory locked away in the book under his bed.

He dismissed the notion, pushing it to the back of his mind, something in him unwilling to remember. It was not important, he decided. It would remain something to peruse over later, on a night he couldn’t sleep.

Sasuke continued strolling through the village at a casual pace, easily dodging any person or animal that jumped in his path. He made a mental map of the small village, memorizing landmarks and signs. He walked about half an hour out before turning around, returning to the home exactly an hour after he left it.

Genji was still seated at the table, Mio in his lap, and Anna bustling about as she put the last finishing touches on what appeared to be a small, rather simple meal. Aside from those three, there was a new addition—a young teen just a few years younger than Sasuke. He was sitting at the table impatiently, green eyes glaring swords into the table. His scrawny arms were crossed firmly over his yukata-clad chest, blowing a strand of brown hair out of his face every few minutes.

Upon Sasuke’s entry, all eyes turned to him. Anna’s and Genji’s faces brightened, welcoming him to the table, while the boy—presumably Eita—turned his scowl in the newcomer’s direction, expression darkening even further, if possible. Ignoring the boy’s clear hostility, the raven-haired young man sat at the table, coal-black eyes staring dispassionately as Anna set the food out before sitting down herself.

A quick grace—as insisted by Genji—and Sasuke welcomed himself to a simple meal of bread, a small fish, and an overly ripe apple.

 

* * *

 

 

_“Well, let’s begin with introducing yourselves.”_

_The silver-haired jounin looked completely unreliable, lazy, and frankly not fit to lead a team of kids. And now he wanted them to get friendly with each other._

_It was a complete waste of time._

_“My name is Hatake Kakashi. I have no desire to tell you my likes and dislikes. Dreams for the future… Hmm… And I have lots of hobbies.”_

_Sasuke’s eye twitched. This man…_

_“Yosh! My name is Uzumaki Naruto. What I like is cup ramen. What I like even more is when Iruka-sensei pays for my ramen. What I dislike is waiting three minutes for the ramen to cook. And my dream…”_

_Naruto pissed him off. The idiot was annoying and, well, idiotic._

_“…is to surpass the Hokage and then have the people of this village acknowledge my existence.”_

_The worst part was, Sasuke actually kind of believed he could do something so impossible. A small, small, miniscule part of him rooted for Uzumaki. The much larger, much more rational part of him squashed that part._

_“Next.”_

_Sasuke sighed inwardly. This was such a pain._

_“My name is Uchiha Sasuke. There are lots of things I dislike and I don’t really like anything. And… I can’t really call it a dream… But I have an ambition. The resurrection of my clan and… to kill a certain man.”_

_Sasuke told himself the awed look from Sakura and the apprehensive one from Naruto didn’t mean anything to him._

_“My name is Haruno Sakura. The thing I like is… Well the person I like is…” Sasuke stubbornly ignored the looks she sent him. “And um… My dream for the future…” He tried not to roll his eyes._

_Predictable.  
“What I dislike… is _ Naruto _.” Sasuke let his folded hands hide his smirk. That was actually pretty funny._

 

* * *

 

 

_He knew not to underestimate a Jounin. Sasuke wasn’t stupid. But he didn’t think the difference in skill between them would be so large. At this rate he would never be able to get stronger._

_“Yup, all three of you should quit as shinobi.”_

_His words struck a nerve, and Sasuke clenched his teeth. Of course, leave it to Naruto to make the outburst._

_“Quit as shinobi?! What does that mean?!”_

_Kakashi’s answer only served to piss him off even more. The last Uchiha leapt at the Jounin, only to be stopped with a frustrating ease. The man didn’t break a sweat, and as his foot pressed harder down on Sasuke’s scalp, the boy clenched his teeth._

_This was_ humiliating _. Sasuke knew it was futile to struggle. He knew. But that didn’t stop him from wanting to try._

_“It’s teamwork.”_

_Teamwork. Something so simple. Even as Kakashi explained it, Sasuke’s mind raced ahead at the implications. The man was right. He knew he was better than the other two, but he had let that get to his head. Even if he was better than them, they still could have had their uses._

_But where was teamwork going to get him?_ That man _didn’t use teamwork. He hadn’t needed it._

_But perhaps… perhaps that was where they differed. That was where Sasuke could beat him. By utilizing the strengths that he didn’t have._

_Kakashi left, and Naruto gave his signature obnoxious grin._

_“I don’t need any food! I’m fine!” His stomach growled, negating his point, and Sasuke rolled his eyes as he sat down to eat. He didn’t eat much before glancing over to see Uzumaki’s miserable mug._

_Sasuke did not feel sorry for him. He brought it on himself. But if he was going to get stronger…_

 

* * *

 

 

When he woke again, he didn’t quite remember what he had dreamt of, only that he knew it was important. Yellow, pink, silver… An odd combination, a strange concoction from his mind that he didn’t fully understand.

The wisps of a memory were gone by the time he rose from his bed, and soon enough, Sasuke forgot about it.

Around him another bed had been set up, upon which Anna slept. Just next to her was a makeshift crib for Mio. On the other side of the small, and now crowded, room slept Eita, curled up under the thin, dirty sheet. The last mat was empty, though heat still emanated from it. Sasuke made to leave, moving silently so as not to wake the still sleeping occupants. He turned, and after another brief moment of thought, pulled the sheet from his bed, throwing it over Eita’s body. The boy shifted but otherwise didn’t stir.

Genji sat at the table once more, picking at his browning teeth with a toothpick. When he saw Sasuke, he grinned, ushering him over. “Good to know you’re an early riser, kid. So, I know it’s a bit early, but I was thinkin’ of takin’ you to a friend o’ mine. He’s a blacksmith, and has been looking for an apprentice fo’ some time now. You’ll get a share of the profit; especially once you start makin’ your own weapons.” He leaned forward, grinning widely, and Sasuke held back the urge to escape from the vicinity of the large nose and equally large smell. “So whaddya say?”

Sasuke took a moment to regain his sense of smell before nodding. Genji sat back, satisfied, before pulling himself up and bounding out the door with a speed that belied his age. Sasuke followed at a calmer pace, Genji leading the way through the streets, still largely empty as the sun had just risen only minutes before.

They moved for several minutes in silence before Genji fell back, enough to keep pace with Sasuke, leaning over to speak quietly in his ear. “Listen ta me closely, kid. Eating isn’t common for others around here, and those that do can be feared or persecuted. Since you seem to have enough reiatsu to need to eat, you can’t let others know. Learn to control and hide your reiatsu, and don’t let anyone but us know if you’re hungry. Understand?” He stopped, giving Sasuke a hard look. He must’ve seen something in his eyes, because the man then nodded, attitude shifting as he grinned, slapping the younger man on the back. “Good! Now let’s get goin’!”

Genji led him to a small shop, the area around it surprisingly spacious, compared to the cramped quarters of its neighbors. The small, sparse yard held a kiln and a bonfire pit, tables set up before them and filled with various wares, from daggers to cooking pans. Sitting in a shack of a shop was a man that seemed about Genji’s age, his long hair pulled back, though silver strands persistently clung to his sweat-matted face.

The man looked up as they neared him, hard eyes as black as the ash and soot that coated his face. He scowled at the sight of the two of them, setting down the half-made blade in his hands as he stood, wiping his hands on his yukata, leaving black smears on the cloth.

“What do you want, Hibiki?” The man groused, eyes flicking to Sasuke for only a moment.

Genji grinned sheepishly. “Well, you know how you’ve been talking about gettin’ an apprentice or something?”

The man’s scowl deepened. “I said maybe.”

Genji laughed. “Well, either way, I’ve found you an apprentice.” He waved a hand in Sasuke’s direction. “This kid here is Uchiha Sasuke. Sasuke, this man is an old friend of mine and the local blacksmith, Uchiwa Jirou. You’ll be an apprentice under him from now on.” At the sound of Sasuke’s name, Jirou’s own eyes narrowed, but he otherwise said nothing, turning his piercing gaze to the only other old man in the vicinity.

“I haven’t agreed to this yet.” He growled, but Genji ignored him, laughing and slapping him on the back.

“But we both know you will eventually, so just go ahead and take him already! Show him the ropes! He looks like he’s proficient with a blade anyways.”

Jirou looked as if he was going to protest again, but Genji just laughed and escaped, leaving Sasuke to stand there somewhat awkwardly. Jirou turned to him grumpily, hard dark eyes glaring into Sasuke’s own black eyes.

Another few moments passed before Jirou broke the stare first with a resigned sigh, sitting heavily down on his little rickety stool. He looked back up at Sasuke with a scowl.

“Very well. Be here tomorrow at sunrise.”


	2. When Someone Offers You a Job, It's Probably Not As Nice As It Sounds

**1942 – 1943**

Two weeks in and Sasuke was really starting to change his mind about Genji. The man's "kind offer" of getting him an apprenticeship was a load of bull. He wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but working for Jirou was just _grueling._ It wasn’t the workload, though that in and of itself often left Sasuke constantly starving, despite what Anna did her best to provide. But there was something about working for Jirou that drained him and left him in a terrible mood for the rest of the day. His housemates had picked up on it, tiptoeing around him with as little interaction as possible, or even straight out avoiding him, in Eita’s case. And that only served to make his mood worse.

“You’re late.”

Sasuke resisted a scowl at the man, muttering a reluctant apology. Jirou didn’t look any happier and, from his expression, Sasuke couldn’t help but briefly wonder if the man had actually heard the rest of his mental tirade.

Jirou stood from his favorite spot by the forge, face already covered in grime—given that he washed it off at all—as he stepped gingerly past the drying rack before dropping a bladeless hilt into his apprentice’s hands. “Finish designing that piece. I want to see a completed blade by this afternoon.”

Sasuke set the hilt on one of the many little worktables scattered throughout the smithy. The aprons sat on a little hook on the back wall, though Jirou never used them. Sasuke preferred to have his only clothes clean, thank you very much. (Though, considering the man’s work habits, Sasuke was grateful he had any protective wear at all.)

The smithy was a small, cluttered shop separated into two areas. The larger area, where Jirou spent most of his time in when Sasuke was around—evidently Sasuke wasn’t worthy of trust around sharp objects—was the official shop, where all the finished pieces sat for inspection and sale. (Sasuke had learned that Jirou was in fact very meticulous. Every sword and knife was arranged by type, size, and price. Cookware was kept separated from the blades, with building materials closer to the cookware and gardening tools closer to the weapons. Miscellaneous objects and specific orders sit in the front of the shop. The man had once expressed an interest in glassware, but unfortunately there wasn’t much business for it in Fox Track.) In the back, with a rickety stone wall keeping most of the heat away from the front, was the forgery.

Sasuke stepped through the makeshift doorway, sword hilt in hand, pulling the open curtain shut behind him. It was unbearably hot with the lit fire taking up the center of the room, but somehow the close proximity with the flame never bothered the Uchiha. It was almost… reassuring, in a way.

He set aside the hilt for the moment, deciding to get that blade done as soon as possible before Jirou came back to work on whatever project he had going at the moment. The so-called ‘apprenticeship’ this was involved more grunt work than anything else. Rather than actually teach him, the old man thought it better just to let him get through trial and error.

It was an utterly stupid way to teach. He had the scars to prove it.

The forging was always one of the worst parts, in Sasuke’s opinion. As Jirou loved to point out, when it came to the functionality of his creations, there was always something wrong. First the blade was too brittle, then it was too long, too short, too unbalanced. There was always something Jirou could find to nag him about.

Sasuke scowled at the red glow of the steel sitting above the burning coals. He could make perfect blades if the man actually taught him properly.

Sweat dripped down the back of his neck, black strands already wet despite having pulled it back before he arrived. His hair was growing out a little, but he still wasn’t sure whether or not he wanted to cut it.

He lifted the rod out of the fire with one of the many large tongs sitting on one of the many tables of tools crowding around the walls of the forgery. While the actual working space was very clean and spacious, the surrounding area often left something to be desired. He held the rod steady over the anvil, grabbing a hammer and starting to bang away.

Contrary to what he initially believed, forging metal required more skill than simple banging on things. A blacksmith had to have precise control of where they would strike, how hard and fast the hammer came down, and where they hit. Simply banging on whatever looked like it needed to be banged on would only produce scrap metal. Sasuke seemed to have a natural tendency towards control, precision, and accuracy, however, so once he figured that part out everything became a lot simpler.

The blade was coming along nicely. If he was lucky, he’d get it finished by the end of the day. If he was really lucky, he could finish it early and start working on some of his own projects.

“What’s with that weak arm? You’re not hitting hard enough! At that rate you’ll spend most of your time reheating the blade!” Sasuke scowled as heavy steps came up from behind, grabbing the hammer from his hands and replacing it with another. “Start again!”

Sasuke just glowered for several minutes as the man took _his hammer_ and walked back out into the store. He had been using that, dammit!

 

* * *

 

He often wondered if there was just something about him that people didn’t like. He was friendly enough with the local women, many of whom offered him free food to take home. (The old lady down the street was his favorite, as she was the only one in the village with a little tomato plant.) The men commended him for being friendly with Jirou. He begged to differ, but apparently the man didn’t exchange more than ten words a day with anybody except for Genji and himself. Sasuke still wasn’t sure whether he should feel honored by that.

Yet, for some godforsaken reason, Eita hated him. Having some snot-nosed kid hate him wasn’t a big deal in and of itself, but he had to live with said snot-nosed kid. Furthermore, Eita had somehow convinced all the other kids in the village to hate him as well, and Sasuke now had to spend every walk through the village dodging some rock or mudball or prank. The only peace he got was the early morning passage from the house to Jirou’s shop.

This was evident once more in the glare he received upon coming home for the evening.

“Welcome back, Sasuke,” Anna smiled at him, and without a need for words, the Uchiha took Mio from her, the baby gurgling in his arms. She gave him an appreciative nod, standing from her seat at the table to start dinner. “Genji is out at the market gathering food with the money he’s been saving up. We’re having rabbit meat tonight.”

Rabbit was a delicacy, and Sasuke raised an eyebrow. It accounted for her good mood, at the very least. “What’s the occasion?”

Eita scoffed from where he sat sulking across from Sasuke. “Don’t you know anything? We have rabbit during someone’s birthday!”

“Eita!” Anna scolded, and the boy scowled at Sasuke before jumping from the table and running off. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into him these past few weeks.”

Sasuke didn’t reply. He already knew the answer.

 

* * *

 

“Why, if it isn’t Sasuke!” The little old lady gave him a toothy grin, which wasn’t saying much considering how little teeth she actually had. “How are you, boy?”

Sasuke nodded in greeting to Wakama Umeko, who smiled wider at the attention. “The usual. How are you, Wakama-san?”

The woman slapped him on the ass. Sasuke didn’t flinch, unfortunately used to it after four weeks of the same treatment. “How many times have I told you to just call me Umeko? Wakama-san makes me sound old.” She barked out a laugh, and Sasuke sighed silently as he set down the boxes by her doorstep.

On days when business was slow, Jirou sometimes let Sasuke leave early, in which he would somehow get roped into helping out some of the other villagers in doing odd jobs. Most of the residents were either young children like Eita or older people like Genji and Jirou, many of which had some back problem or another. Sasuke was pretty damned sure that a lot of these health problems weren't actually a problem at all, but he got free food out of it so he wasn't going to say anything. Fresh tomatoes were a hard thing to come by in these parts, after all.

“Was there anything else you needed help with?” He raised an expectant eyebrow at the dead rosebush sitting in the front of Wakama-san’s garden, where a young woman stood watching. When both Wakama-san and Sasuke turned to look at her, she let out a surprised squeak, hunkering down further behind the rosebush.

Wakama-san beamed even brighter than before. “Why, if it isn’t little Momoka! It’s good to see you’re getting outside again. We were beginning to worry about you, after what happened.” The young woman didn’t reply, but she peeked out a little from behind the rosebush, offering a little wave before retreating again, scampering off.

Wakama-san waved back cheerily.

“I’ll be taking my leave then.” Sasuke murmured, giving a small bow in respect before making his leave. Or at least, attempting to.

“Not so fast, boy.” Wakama-san’s wrinkled old hand snapped out with a speed that belied her age, grasping his wrist in a strong grip. “You wouldn’t mind listening to an old lady ramble, would you?”

Sasuke gave her a look, and the old woman’s expression turned sly.

“I got some ripe tomatoes this morning. You’re welcome to snack on them in the meantime.” Well, if she was offering…

Sasuke didn’t even get the chance to agree before he was dragged inside the home. It was a tiny little place, not much different from where he himself lived. There was the main room—a combination of sorts of a living room, dining room, and kitchen—and a back room that served as the bedroom. In Wakama-san’s home, there was also a backdoor of sorts that led to a little vegetable garden. Most of the vegetables she was growing didn’t actually seem to grow, with the exception of her flourishing tomato plant and some sparse-looking celery.

Sasuke sat down at the low table sitting on the dirt floor, the chairs not much more than raggedly cushions. The old woman set down a large wooden bowl filled with tomatoes before him before sitting down herself.

They sat in silence for several minutes as Wakama-san grabbed a tomato, taking a large bite out of it and slowly chewing. Sasuke didn’t speak or prompt her, content enough to take a tomato for himself to eat.

“My husband used to love that old garden.” She sighed, eyes on the doorway leading out to the little vegetable garden. There was not so much sadness in her eyes as nostalgia. “After he died, I couldn’t keep it up, and everything began to wither away. It’s hard, you know, keeping a garden in this place. But for some reason that tomato plant never died, the stubborn little thing.” She smiled, and Sasuke wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen someone so in love before. “It may seem like the delusions of an old woman, but I like to think that that tomato plant is the spirit of Ichiro watching over me and making sure I have enough to eat.”

“…What happened to him? Your husband.”

Wakama-san shrugged; her tone was almost light-hearted. “Well, who knows? He walked into the forest one day and never walked out.” She paused, munching on her tomato. She swallowed and then continued. “He was looking for herbs. Little Momoka was sick as a child, and he thought he could make medicine for her.”

“Was he able to make the medicine?”

Wakama-san snorted. “Of course he did. He just never made it back.”

 

* * *

 

That morning was busy. Sasuke had just arrived—he’d come later than usual after Anna had roped him into watching Mio while she did the weekly cleaning—and already there were several customers either milling about the shop or talking business with Jirou.

The blacksmith’s dark eyes snapped in his direction as soon as he stepped into the shop. Sasuke half-expected another lecture or sarcastic comment, but the man ignored him for a moment in favor of finishing up his talk with his customers.

Sasuke left him to it, grabbing his preferred apron from the back wall and pulling his hair back while he waited to be put to work. As expected, Jirou turned to harp on him as soon as his conversation was done.

“Boy, I want you in the forgery today. Take the list of projects with you and get started.” He barked, business as always, before moving on to speak with the next person in the shop.

Sasuke rolled his eyes once the man’s back was turned, grabbing the little scrap of paper with notes scribbled in the old man’s shorthand before heading into the back. The first project was simple enough—an iron candleholder for Ohayashi Hiro. The man wanted some twists and a wide base; it had to be simple, but still decorative. He grabbed a scrap piece of iron from one of his previously failed projects to set in the forge to heat up. (One of the advantages of working with metal was that it was recyclable. If one project didn’t turn out well, he could just reshape it and start over, or make it into something else entirely.)

The forge wasn’t actually lit yet, so Sasuke lit it and sat down to wait for it to get hot enough to be effective. He listened to the business in the shop while he waited, not really expecting anything until he heard his name.

“…How’s he doing anyway? That boy must be good if you agreed to take him on as an apprentice.” It was one of the customers speaking, and though Sasuke didn’t recognize the voice, it was probably one of the villagers.

Jirou scoffed. “He has trouble listening to authority and following orders. He doesn’t know how to sell items and he’s too prideful.”

Sasuke’s brows furrowed as he tossed a stray coal into the fire with unnecessary force.

The villager laughed. “If he’s such a handful, why not just let him go like the rest? Give him to someone else to teach.”

It was faint, but he thought he heard the blacksmith sigh. “He may have an attitude problem, but he is a fast learner. He could almost be considered a prodigy with his proficiency with the fire. I’ve had other students in the past, but not a single one of them handled a blade as expertly as this brat does.”

Sasuke, hands holding the tongs holding the iron, faltered, and the iron fell back into the forge with a loud clang. Sasuke winced at the noise, knowing that was going to get—

“Those better have not been important, boy!”

Sasuke sighed in defeat. He supposed some things never changed.

 

* * *

 

Sasuke came home to a shouting match.

The usually peaceful home was chaotic, and the Uchiha stood in the doorway as Eita and Genji screamed at each other. Anna was cowering in the bedroom doorway while Mio wailed. Upon seeing him, she gave him a silent plea with teary eyes.

“Stop it.” He spoke quietly, resting a hand on both Genji’s and Eita’s shoulders. Both mouths shut with an audible click, but while Genji slowly eased the tension in his muscles, Eita rounded on him, flinging his hand away.

“Don’t touch me you bastard!”

“Eita, stop that!” Genji reached for the boy, but the brunette ducked under his hand, running for the door. “Eita, where are you going?!”

Angry green eyes glared back at them. “Away from here! I’ll come back when _he’s_ gone!” The boy ran off, and instead of going after him, Genji slumps into a seat, resting his face in his hands.

Mio’s cries softened into hiccups as Anna soothed her now that the house had quieted down.

“I’m so sorry,” Anna murmured, staring at the oldest soul in the room. “I was the one who brought it up.”

Genji shook his head, face still hidden in his palms. “It’s not your fault. You were just trying to help.”

Sasuke pursed his lips before eventually asking in the same level of voice, “What happened?”

No one answered, but Genji finally looked up at him, countering with another question. “Do you know why he doesn’t like you?”

“I’m a stranger.”

Genji sighed. “Yes, but it’s more than that. You are…” He sighed again, more heavily this time. “You look like someone that came through here once, a long time ago. Eita looked up to that man; we all did.”

Sasuke waited, but Genji did not continue, taking a deep, shaky breath and letting it out slowly. “What happened?”

His words were thick, voice hard. “That man betrayed us. He killed my wife, stole Eita’s only living relative, and left.”

“Genji’s wife was Eita’s grandmother in the World of the Living. They arrived here together when Eita was younger.” Anna offered in explanation. “I had not yet arrived at the time, but I have heard the stories.”

“Why would you help me then?”

She smiled, but there was no joy in her expression. “If you are cut once by a knife, do you forever stop using blades? If one person betrays your trust, do you never trust someone again? We can’t judge everything according to one piece, Sasuke. If we did, we wouldn’t really be able to live.”

Sasuke did not reply, but he stored her words in his mind, to look back upon in the future. He turned around, walking out the doorway.

“Where are you going?” Genji’s voice, tired, weary.

Sasuke did not turn around when he replied. “I should bring Eita back before it gets dark.”

 

* * *

 

The search took much longer than anticipated, and after wandering through the entire town and finding no trace of the boy, the Uchiha left the area, venturing into the wooded area surrounding the village. The trees were tall, thick, and Sasuke resisted the urge to climb them.

The world was quiet, but it wasn’t the kind of quiet that came early in the morning. This was an apprehensive silence, as if the whole forest were holding its breath, watching, waiting. Hiding.

Sasuke stopped in his tracks, limbs frozen and muscles tense. Something wasn’t right.

Someone screamed.

He raced through the trees, feet flying from one landing point to the next. He did not falter or stumble on a root or a fallen nut, body completely in tune with the forest around him. He made his way towards the source of the sound, past fleeing birds and squirrels.

The clearing came upon him suddenly, so great was his speed, and he stumbled to a stop as the world snapped back into focus. Eita was there, sitting on the ground with his limbs sprawled about, visibly shaking.

It was where the boy’s attention was focused that caught Sasuke’s eye first, however.

A large creature, more grotesque than anything Sasuke could remember, muscled arms the size of tree trunks and a torso thicker than that of any living creature in the area. Its head, nothing more than its skull, swiveled in a disturbing manner in Sasuke’s direction, cold bone from which beady red eyes seemed to glow within the yawning black abyss of what might have once been its eyes. Its body followed its head, turning in Sasuke’s direction. But of all the features that it possessed, it was the gaping hole where its heart should be that froze Sasuke’s feet in their place.

It screamed, a more terrible sound than he had ever heard, but that sound jarred him out of his shock and into action.

A hand came down in his direction, and Sasuke rolled out of the way, moving to his left so as to bring the monster’s attention away from Eita. Its hand came down again, and Sasuke jumped back, hands going to the lone kunai he’d taken from Jirou’s shop. The creature was faster than its size implied, and there was no way both he and Eita were going to get out of there alive without killing or (at the very least) injuring it.

When the heartless monster reached for him again, Sasuke leaped just feet from where its fist landed, and this time stabbed at its hand with his kunai. The blade went in, but it wasn’t deep enough. The creature screamed, and Sasuke attempted to pull the kunai out so he could get out of its immediate, range, but the blade held fast. He cursed; they weren’t perfect. His skills weren’t good enough yet.

Sasuke abandoned his only blade in favor of leaping out of the way as the other hand came down, swatting at him. He wasn’t quite fast enough to completely avoid the attack, and the glancing blow sent him rolling unceremoniously through the dirt.

Sasuke hissed as he pushed up onto his feet—he had twisted his ankle, perhaps even broken it. If he wanted even a chance of getting away now, he’d have to either kill the creature or try to last long enough for help to arrive. He wasn’t betting on the latter.

The creature roared.

Sasuke tensed, prepared to defend himself, but the monster leaped past him. Black eyes widened, and he whirled around, where Eita still sat frozen in place, tears and snot streaming down his terror-stricken face. He didn’t have time to think, just act.

Sasuke sprinted towards the boy, ignoring the way his ankle screamed at him in agony. He reached him first, and he knew there was no time to grab the boy and run for safety, so Sasuke shoved as hard as he could.

Eita watched, wide-eyed, as a skull came down, pearly white teeth stained with blood as they closed around the shoulder of the black-haired young man.

There was a crunch, and Sasuke clenched his teeth around a strangled scream. Blood trickled down his limp arm, but through all the agony he couldn’t feel his arm, couldn’t make it respond. The monster’s jaw clenched down further, and Sasuke screamed again.

His mind was hazy through the pain, but he caught sight of the kunai, still embedded in the creature’s fist. He couldn’t think, couldn’t really even process what was happening, but he grabbed the hilt and pulled.

The creature’s mouth went slack as it shrieked in pain, and Sasuke winced at the sound. But he didn’t pause or hesitate as his uninjured arm swung up, throwing the blade deep into the creature’s white face. It went silent.

“Wh… Why?” Eita whimpered, and Sasuke finally focused in on where the boy was, a dozen feet away, legs shaking so hard he couldn’t stand. “Why? Why would you save me?”

Sasuke didn’t answer. He couldn’t really respond, anyways, with his thought process fading quickly. The blood was warm and sticky against his skin, and compared to that he was cold. It was cold, and dark.

Sasuke closed his eyes, and Eita’s voice faded away.

 

* * *

 

_He pulled his hand back, electricity crackling, setting his hair on end. Those eyes…_

_He couldn’t get away from those eyes._

_He hesitated, perhaps, for half a second. Naruto jumped to his feet with the force of his uppercut, and Sasuke shouted in pain as his back hit the stone, the solid rock crumbling beneath him._

_“Over… and over… and over again…” The breath had been knocked out of him, and still those eyes stared at him. “Just be a good boy and let me kill you!!”_

_Naruto stood there, his face covered in bruises and blood. Sasuke didn’t doubt that his face looked similar._

_“No way… I’m the one and only.”_

_Sasuke let another attack burn to life in his hands. He was going to finish this. Once and for all. He pushed off the crumbling stone behind him, let gravity be his guiding force. Naruto leaped up, his own hand gathering chakra, ready to meet him._

_The world exploded, and everything went white._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas~! :) 
> 
> (Can I just say I love Wakama Umeko. She's like a female version of Jiraiya.)


	3. When the Author Has No Idea How Money Works

**1943 – 1944**

Sasuke woke up alone. The rickety futon he lay on was familiar, and when he opened his eyes the rotting ceiling of his home looked back. Light from the morning sun streamed in through the little window.

So he was alive, for one. That was an up, he supposed. His memory of everything was still a little hazy, but Eita was probably the one that got him help.

And since they were both alive, that monster from before was probably dead. Another up.

Deciding he had nothing immediate to worry about, now that he knew where he was and what had happened, slowly pushed himself into a sitting position, mindful of his sore body. His injuries had been dressed, but while they were closed, they hadn’t healed very extensively yet, meaning he hadn’t been out for more than a few hours.

He set his left arm down to push himself up—or attempted to. Sasuke’s eyes widened.

The dull ache and consistent pain in his shoulder was expected, with what happened, but he should have been able to move it. Sasuke tried to stay calm, but his breaths came in gasps and his mind went blank except for the immediate thought.

He couldn’t feel his arm. Why couldn’t he feel his arm?

His right hand flew across his body to grasp it. It was still there, he still had it, so why couldn’t he move it?

Sasuke’s vision went hazy, and some sense came back to his mind as he forced himself to calm down, taking slow, deep breaths. His vision slowly came back into focus, and he took one more deep breath before turning his gaze to his arm.

He forced his arm to move, put all his effort into it, and found he could get his hand to clench, could even get his arm to twitch if he tried hard enough—though that in and of itself was agonizingly painful. Sasuke took another deep breath. He would probably be able to get a more normal movement if he gave it time to heal. Yes, that would do it.

He breathed in, clenched his teeth, and forced his body to stand. He had to put most of his weight on his left foot, due the injury he’d caused to the right one. Unlike his arm, there was no possibility of permanent damage, however. Just pain.

He used the wall as a crutch as he slowly limped his way out of the bedroom, the doorway having been covered by a curtain for privacy at some point while he’d been out. He balanced himself briefly on his left foot in order to use his right hand to push the curtain out of the way before resuming his journey into the main room.

Genji and Eita were the only ones there, both sitting at the table. Genji looked angry—not as angry as he’d been before Eita had run off, granted, but angry enough—and Eita was staring at the pattern of the wood, shame-faced. They both looked up as he pushed aside the curtain, Genji’s mouth shutting abruptly. He must’ve been in the middle of saying something, but opted to stay silent as Eita jumped up from his seat. Sasuke raised an eyebrow, bewildered as Eiji dropped low in a bow. The boy had never shown him that much respect before; or any respect at all, for that matter.

“I’m sorry, Sasuke-nii!” This time Sasuke blinked.

_Sasuke-nii?_

“I-I…” Eita stuttered, sniffling, and Sasuke’s other brow rose to join the first as he deciphered the noises leaking out from the boy’s closed throat as crying. To prove his hypothesis, Eita sniffed again, and a teardrop dripped off his chin. “I’m sorry…” He said again, and even his words sounded watery. “I-If it wasn’t for me, y-you wouldn’t h-have gotten hurt. It’s a-all my fa-fault…”

Sasuke sighed. “Eita.” The boy looked up, face wet and eyes teary. Sasuke, after a moment of hesitation, brought his index finger up and poked the boy hard in the space between his eyebrows. Eita stumbled back, clutching his forehead with both hands. He glared at Sasuke before seeming to remember that he was supposed to be guilty, and looked down again.

“Eita,” he repeated, and the boy looked up once more. “Don’t apologize.”

Those seemed to be the words to break the floodgates, as only a moment after Sasuke spoke those words did Eita start bawling. Tears streamed down his face, and a wail left his lips as Eita brought two fists up in a vain attempt to wipe away the tears.

Sasuke watched for a minute, uncomfortable, feeling like he should do _something_. With a sigh, he reached out with his right hand, placing it on Eita’s dark hair in what was probably a poor attempt at comfort. Eita seemed to take this as a cue, as he leapt forward, arms wrapping themselves tightly around Sasuke’s waist. He wailed, squeezing and smearing snot all over the Uchiha’s yukata.

“I-I’m sorry, Sasuke-nii! Be-Because of m-me…” He sobbed, burying his face into the cloth of the blue yukata. “I-I’m sor-sorry…”

Sasuke—a hand still resting atop Eita’s head—looked up at Genji, bewildered. The old man simply grinned impishly at him.

 

* * *

 

A week passed before Anna let him leave the house. She had become a self-proclaimed nurse at some point during Sasuke’s house arrest, ordering him to bed rest for far too many hours within the day. Often times she left him to look after Mio, the little redhead surprisingly energetic for a baby. (Unfortunately, even though he was able to leave the house, he wasn’t allowed to do any work yet.)

And so it was that Sasuke found himself sitting just outside the door of the home, Mio gurgling in his lap. She played with his left arm, which he had draped carefully across her. He was gaining a bit of motion back, able to curl his hand into a loose fist and lift his arm a few inches away from his side. His shoulder was a constant dull ache, but it wasn’t painful enough to impede his movements.

Mio had apparently decided she’d had enough of his arm, and struggled a bit before she managed to crawl out of Sasuke’s lap. Sasuke let her, watching calmly as she started crawling towards the road. The path that ran between houses wasn’t large or particularly busy, but that didn’t stop Anna from worrying. She wasn’t around, but just in case Sasuke pushed himself to his feet, ready to halt Mio’s progress should she get any closer.

There was no need for him to do so, however, as Mio turned around on her own, crawling back towards Sasuke. He sat down again, letting her push herself up to her feet with his knees. She wobbled for a moment before getting her bearings, standing up straight and reaching out. Sasuke let a small smile slip onto his face, right arm extending for Mio to grab hold of to push herself around. She had gotten to the point where she could start walking at any moment now.

“Are you two having fun?” Genji and Anna walked up to them, the old man carrying a large jug of fresh drinking water while the latter held a bag of what was probably going to be dinner. Genji took the food and water inside while Anna knelt down a few feet away, smiling at her daughter.

“Hello, Mio.” Mio gurgled in delight, little hands reaching out in Anna’s direction. “Come here, Mio.” The dark-haired woman cooed, spreading her arms out for her daughter to fall into.

Sasuke watched the exchange, mesmerized. Anna’s smile was warm, loving, a look she reserved only for Mio. Sasuke’s chest ached and his throat closed up, though he wasn’t entirely sure why. But something about Anna made him want to run into her arms and cry, as if he were a little boy again.

Mio giggled, arms still reaching for her mother, acting as a balance as she took one shaky step, then another. Anna’s face brightened, and Genji appeared in the doorway, looking as if he wanted to intervene, but restraining himself. Mio took a few more small steps before she fell, but she was close enough that Anna swept her up into her arms. Mio squealed in delight, and Anna and Genji laughed. A small smile stretched itself across Sasuke’s face.

“Good job, Mio! You took your first steps!” Anna spun her around again, and Mio giggled some more. Sasuke’s smile turned bittersweet.

After a while longer of marveling at Mio’s newfound ability, Anna went inside to make dinner while Genji helped Mio waddle after her. Sasuke stood, stretching out the kinks in his back. It seemed like a good time to take a walk.

Wakama-san was out and about as well, and she beamed at him when their eyes met. “Sasuke! I heard about your accident. I’m glad to see you’re doing well!”

Sasuke nodded. “I’ve been allowed to do light exercise, but I can’t go back to the shop.”

The old lady nodded knowingly. “Ah, yes, yes. You’re ol’ Jirou’s new apprentice. You better step it up if you want to stick around though.”

“Why is that?”

She grinned slyly. “That old coot has yet to see an apprentice that meets his standards. And you’ve got a pretty face on ya, Sasuke. Ol’ Jirou hates pretty faces.” She snickered. “Of course, if you want to apprentice under me…”

Sasuke shook his head. “I think I’ll be alright.”

Wakama-san sighed dramatically, but she was still smiling. “Ah yes, I suppose it will be alright. You were brought to him by Genji, right? You can’t just ignore your family after they were so kind to suggest a place after all.”

“I don’t have any family. Now if you’ll excuse me,” Sasuke gave a small bow out of respect before continuing on his way.

 

* * *

 

Sasuke was both anticipating and dreading going back to the shop. On the one hand, he could finally get out of the house and do something productive. On the other, he had to deal with a cranky old coot.

The shop was quiet when he arrived, despite it being late morning already. Jirou sat in the front of the shop, adjusting some of the pans that sat lined up on one of the many display tables. He looked up as his apprentice approached.

“You’re late, brat.” He groused, and Sasuke resisted rolling his eyes, though the familiarity of that tone was comforting, almost. It made him feel like he hadn’t been away for as long as he had.

Sasuke began his usual routine, tying back his growing hair and wrapping one of the stained work aprons over his yukata. It was somewhat more difficult without much use of his left arm, but over the months Sasuke had quickly readjusted his usual habits to do most things one-handed. The forge had already been stoked, and Sasuke grabbed the scrap of paper with the list of the day’s projects. Most of them had already been crossed off, though there wasn’t a large amount of them in the first place. It was probably a good thing, considering how little he could move his arm.

He started on the remaining projects, finishing them up before noon. Working the forge wasn’t nearly as hard as he thought it was going to be, since for the most part his left arm was used to hold something still, which didn’t require all that much movement. The only one that gave any semblance of trouble was the little statue some man was planning to present as an anniversary gift to his wife. The iron didn’t want to twist or curl the way he wanted to, and Sasuke had to completely restart several times before getting it the way he wanted.

There wasn’t any other work to do—business really was dry today—and Jirou hadn’t come in to give him new projects the way he usually did. The teen sat there, feeling the sweat dripping down the back of his neck and the burn of the forge fire in his face. His shoulder ached both from the constant use and tension as well as the heat. After a few minutes he had to get up and head around the back to dunk his head in some water to cool down, taking several large gulps so as to keep from overheating later.

When he came back in, Jirou tossed him a rag.

“Polish off the kunai and knives if you aren’t doing anything.” He ordered before turning back to his own work polishing the kitchenware.

Since he really had nothing else to do, Sasuke did so without complaint for once. The movement wasn’t as painful on his shoulder either, and Sasuke went about it efficiently. The work was mindless, and he let his mind wander.

The kunai in his hands was thin, more knife-like than anything else, one end tapering off into its characteristic point while the other rounded off in a ring. Sasuke frowned, turning the blade over in his hands. It didn’t feel right. He just wasn’t sure why.

The work started picking up around the early afternoon, with a trio of young women entering the store, oohing at the little knick-knacks scattered mindlessly on one of the tables. It was the only table that Jirou didn’t compulsively organize, and held all of Sasuke’s “practice projects” and random pieces that customers either didn’t want or never came back for. Everything from little sculptures and garden decorations to various types of candleholders and even blacksmithing tools was displayed. There was even a bench made for children sitting up there.

Sasuke had just finished all the polishing—he had gone on to do the rest of the blades as well—when the women came up to him, all giggling. For some reason, the action was sickeningly familiar.

“…Can I help you?” He asked, somewhat reluctantly. Jirou was usually the one to deal with customers, not him. Apparently he wasn’t a good conversationalist.

The blonde woman spoke up. “I was wondering how much this would be.” She held one of the little statues from the junk table, this particular one of a dancing girl, not much bigger than his forearm. It was intended as a piece on a box, but the customer had canceled the order before they’d started on the box, so Sasuke just left the statue as-is. It was too good to be considered scrap, after all.

“2,135 yen,” he muttered, turning back to the display of blades and straightening them out.

The woman pouted; obviously, she didn’t have that much. “Aw, that much? Don’t you think you could lower that price, just a little?” He continued straightening out the blades, checking a few to make sure they were polished to Jirou’s satisfaction. But he watched out of the corner of his eye as the blonde leaned forward, arms squeezing her chest. Sasuke didn’t even blink.

“No.” The blonde and her friends actually frowned at him, but he was saved from whatever else they might say when Jirou came over, taking the kunai out of his hands—when had he picked that up?—and sending only a brief glance at the woman, who was still holding onto the statue.

“Boy, go make some more kunai. We’ve got a big order.” Sasuke nodded, letting a smirk slide onto his face as he walked away. If she thought she could get away with a discount, she had another thing coming.

 

* * *

 

Sasuke sat at the table, the smell of food filling the little room as Anna did her usual in the kitchen. He watched as Mio waddled around the room, arms raised above her head so her hands could reach Eita’s, which she held tightly. Eita was forced to walk behind Mio as a result, back bent awkwardly with his arms stretched out in front of him for Mio’s use. Nonetheless, he was grinning, letting the little girl lead him around.

Mio started walking Eita in Sasuke’s direction. “Sasuke-nii, move!” Eita’s tone was stern, but jokingly so, and Sasuke’s lip quirked in amusement as he picked up his chair and moved out of the way, setting the furniture at another part of the table. He watched the two of them make circles for a while before deciding he’d head out. Dinner wouldn’t be ready for another hour.

“Sasuke-nii, where are you going?” Eita called after him, and Sasuke paused just long enough to give him an answer.

“On a walk.”

He could run around the entire village and back in a few hours—if he sprinted, he could make that one hour.

Not wanting to waste any time, Sasuke took off, flying through the woods. The streets were busy at this time of day, though not as busy as the bustling mornings, and he had to quickly adjust his path to avoid children and elderly and whoever else got in his way.

The ease of flying through the forest that day haunted his footsteps, and Sasuke tried to go faster. He wanted to feel that again, the way he melted into the forest, became one with the leaves and the branches.

A woman with two young children stepped out into the street, and Sasuke inhaled sharply. He was going too fast to stop.

The woman looked up in his direction, and Sasuke’s body reacted before his mind could get past _I’m going to crash_. He leapt up, and somehow his legs were strong enough to propel him over her, far enough that his feet cleared her head by a good several inches.

His landing wasn’t quite as graceful, and he rolled to a stop. Sasuke breathed harshly through his nose, both out of breath and in pain. His shoulder throbbed; he’d have to learn how to move without aggravating it.

But…

Sasuke turned back around from where he sat on the ground. The woman was staring at him, bewildered. She shook her head as her children tugged on her yukata, grabbing the both of them and hurrying off. Sasuke blinked.

Had he really jumped clear over her? She wasn’t very tall, perhaps, but she wasn’t exactly short either. There was no physical possibility that would allow him to clear over six feet in a single jump. Sasuke looked down at his feet, clad in straw sandals.

But then, he was dead. Did physics work differently in death?

He would have to find out. If he trained, he could learn to control this physical ability—and perhaps learn how to stop.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, boy!” Jirou’s gruff voice called out just before the man himself entered the forge. Sasuke looked up, the setting sun momentarily blinding him after spending so many hours in the forgery. Sasuke blinked several times to clear away the spots in his sight. It was almost time for him to head back, yet the blacksmith held another blade in his hands. Did it need repairs or something?

Sasuke stood as Jirou threw the curtain closed behind him, blocking the sunlight. Jirou’s nose wrinkled.

“Go wash off, boy. You smell something awful.”

Sasuke rolled his eyes, but complied as he stepped around the old man and out into the shop. Jirou kept a little wash bucket around the side of the shop to wash off the grime that was accumulated throughout the day. Ironically enough, it was about the only thing in his yard that was used. The kiln was supposedly for making glassware, but since there was no one around to buy any, it sat there unused. The bonfire pit was actually something the village kids had created, and they liked to go there when they thought the old man wasn’t around to set things on fire and other stupid stunts.

Sasuke pulled his hair out of its small ponytail, dunking his head in the water for several seconds. He shook off what he could of the water, wiping at his face. He’d never bothered to dry, since walking into the forgery was usually enough to dry off quickly.

He stretched out the kinks in his back from the day as he made his way back into the shop. Last time he had just tried to leave after washing off, Jirou had nearly chopped his head off—literally. The blacksmith was waiting for him in the shop. From the looks of it, the forge had been shut off, everything put away for the night. He was still holding that blade. Sasuke raised an eyebrow.

Jirou sighed in annoyance, though to be honest Sasuke wasn’t particularly sure why.

“Here.” He grumbled, thrusting the sheathed blade towards the Uchiha. Sasuke blinked, but took the blade nonetheless.

It was a katana, beautifully crafted. Out of all the dozens of blades he had seen the blacksmith create, this one was perhaps one of the best. The ito was a dark scarlet color, matching the sageo that wrapped the white scabbard. The tsuba was in the shape of three tomoe, whose tails swirled outward, creating a circle. The shape was familiar, haunting almost, though Sasuke couldn’t quite place why.

He looked up at Jirou, who seemed to understand his thoughts and nodded. Eagerly—though he didn’t show it—Sasuke unsheathed the blade. It came out smoothly, swiftly. The hamon was that almost violent-looking wave characteristic of Jirou, which Sasuke could never completely replicate. The blade itself was beautiful, polished, and perfectly curved. The fuller was a futasuji-hi type chiseled away on both sides. The edge was crisply defined, and Sasuke could tell without even using the blade that it was extremely sharp. He took a swing. The ease with which came from that one swing took his breath away.

Sasuke looked up at Jirou, who only huffed, gesturing at the blade with a sharp hand gesture. Sasuke raised a brow, but turned back to the blade. Now that he was not focusing immediately on the details, the first thing that caught his eye was the side of the blade. Just underneath the words engraved, and just above the tsuba where the blade began, there was carved a small paper fan that made his chest ache with the same familiarity as the tomoe.

“ _Itachi no Kinen_ …” He whispered, eyes wide. Itachi’s Memory. He looked at Jirou again, speechless.

The old blacksmith grunted. If Sasuke didn’t know him, he would’ve thought the man was embarrassed. “You were muttering that name. I came by to see when you’d be able to come back to the shop, and you were talking in your sleep. This Itachi seems important to you, so I thought I’d add it as a personal touch.” Sasuke didn’t respond right away, and the blacksmith’s ever present scowl deepened. “If I was mistaken, I’ll get rid of the name.”

That snapped Sasuke out of it, and he blinked. “No, it’s fine. Thank you.” Jirou huffed, waving at Sasuke dismissively.

“Then go on, get out of here, brat.” Sasuke bowed, still completely speechless, before turning away to head back to the house.

If he had looked back, he would have seen Jirou’s face stretch into a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The current value of yen is 106.77 yen is equal to 1 American dollar. So that little statue of the dancing girl would be worth around $20 in the US. It would probably be more expensive, but people in that area don’t have a lot of money, if any, so a lot of the stuff there is considerably cheaper.
> 
> Some notes on katana blades and stuff:  
> -The ito is that braided part of the grip.  
> -The sageo is the cord you’ll often see on the scabbard, which is also known as the saya.  
> -The tsuba is that piece of metal where the blade meets the grip. It’s usually unique for the blade. (AKA the guard)  
> -The hamon is the tempered line that you’ll see on a blade’s edge. It’s natural, and you’ll often see it as a type of wave pattern on the blade. The hamon will vary in pattern depending on the smith’s own process when making the blade.  
> -The fuller are those two grooves on either side of a blade, intended for lightening a blade without sacrificing strength or blade integrity. For katana in particular, the curve of the blade is said to cause more stress on the metal, and the fuller is supposed to lessen the stress.   
>  -The futasuji-hi is a type of fuller—two parallel grooves.


	4. Never Argue With Mothers. Or Blacksmiths. Or Old Women. Shinigami On The Other Hand...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new years! :)

**1944 – 1946**

Ever since the old blacksmith had given him the sword, Sasuke carried it around with him everywhere. Nobody questioned it much—well, with the exception of some of the children—likely already knowing who had made it. Sasuke learned quickly that in small villages, word traveled fast.

When he had first come home with it, Genji had grinned at him and Anna had told him not to have his weapons at the dinner table. Then she had admonished Eita for not eating when he spent too much time ogling the blade that sat in the corner.

The blade wasn’t quite useful at work, however, and so Sasuke had figured he’d leave it at the house. After the incident in which Mio got a little too close to the blade, Anna had threatened to kick him out if he left it in the house again. She was… actually quite terrifying. He supposed that if Mio was in the picture, her motherly rage came out. (He’d seen her go off on Eita once before. Let’s just say that as long as she never turned _that_ on him, he would be able to live another day.)

But even aside from that, there was something almost comforting about having the sword at his waist. It was familiar. He usually wielded blades with his right hand—having tested a few for Jirou in the past—and since his left was useless anyways it was really his only choice. His right hand rested on the hilt and sheath of the blade as he walked. Eita and his friends, evidently, thought it looked cool. (He had seen them imitating him once when they thought he wasn’t around.) Sasuke just thought it was comfortable.

He had taken to training regularly, often going on jogs that usually ended up with him crashing into something. It was coming home after one of these sessions that Anna stood in the doorway, her disapproving expression zeroing on him.

He did his best not to look guilty as he reached her. “Am I late for dinner?” He asked, feigning innocence as he glanced up at the sky. It was still early afternoon.

“No.” She sounded snippy, but then she did a one-eighty, a bright smile on her face and a honey sweet tone in her voice.

“What have you been doing all day?” She asked, still smiling. It took all of Sasuke’s courage not to run for it.

“Taking a walk.”

Her smile got brighter, and Sasuke shrunk in on himself. Just a little.

“And what kind of walk gives you a cut on your forehead?” She raised an eyebrow skeptically as Sasuke blinked, right hand reaching up to touch his temple. He looked down to see his fingers covered in blood.

“…Oh.”

Anna sighed, grabbing him by his yukata and dragging him inside, her loose brown hair brushing his nose as she turned around. She let go of him once she had him standing in front of one of the rickety wooden chairs, pointing to it firmly.

“Sit.”

He sat.

Anna practically stomped through the house, grabbing a rag that she dunked under water and some of the few spare bandages she kept in the house for emergencies. (From what Sasuke could tell, feeling the area with his fingers, it wasn’t actually that bad, but it wasn’t like they had the proper bandages for it. Even if they did, Anna would probably go overboard anyways.)

She returned, grabbing a chair and dragging it forward so she could sit in front of him, wiping away the blood with a rough hand. Sasuke tried to pull away, but she grabbed his chin with her other hand, holding him still as she continued cleaning his face. He couldn’t help but feel somewhat like a child.

When she finally set the towel down, clicking her tongue momentarily at the cut that was no doubt visible now that the blood was gone, she began the lecture.

“I don’t know what you’re doing that’s causing you to come home with all these cuts and bruises, but I wish you’d consider the consequences.” She sighed, and Sasuke opened his mouth to respond, but she continued speaking before he could. “I know you can take care of yourself, but Eita and the other children look up to you. There aren’t many people your age around here, as I’m sure you’ve seen, and they all admire you. What will you do if one of them tries to imitate you and ends up getting seriously hurt? We don’t have a trained medic around here. The closest doctor is over a day away.” She paused, taking a breath. She had finished wrapping his head up with the bandages, but her hands didn’t leave, eyes sad as she cupped his face, gently tilting his head around as she examined his face. “You are so much like him…” She murmured, so quietly that it took Sasuke another moment to register that he hadn’t been imagining that.

“Like who?” She smiled, melancholy welling up in the tears that didn’t fall.

“My fiancé. Most people don’t remember their life back in the World of the Living… but I remember how much I loved him.” She brushed some of the hair away from his face, kissing his forehead before standing up. “Now go find Genji, will you? He has Mio and it’s almost time for her nap.”

 

* * *

 

“Hello, Sasuke! Shopping for Anna again?” The woman smiled brightly at him, her short black hair falling into her face. She huffed momentarily, trying to blow it out of her eyes. When that didn’t work, Sasuke reached out, tucking it behind her ear for her, as he did most times he shopped. She smiled sheepishly. “Thank you. I honestly don’t know how Anna does it.”

Ishii Asuka was the lady that sold fruit to the entire village. Her never present husband worked on their meager fruit fields constantly. There were rumors amongst the children that he didn’t even exist, according to what he’d heard from Eita. She cradled her baby in her arms, as if he was a porcelain doll. Unlike Anna and Mio, Asuka and her baby had crossed over together, thus the baby was actually of her blood. Sasuke wasn’t sure if the same went for her husband, but he never felt it quite right to ask.

He looked at the rickety little stall. There wasn’t much of a selection this week, only a few overripe oranges and a couple small apples. Asuka laughed at the look on his face.

“I’m sorry; we actually had quite a haul, thanks to the recent rain, but I’m afraid all the best stuff was all sold this morning. This is all we’ve got left.” Sasuke sighed, but took the rest of the fruit nonetheless, handing over some of the yen left over from his pay. While he didn’t get paid much—that old coot was such a scrooge—he still had more than the little that Anna had saved up. She had told him the money was free for him to use, but every time Sasuke did have to use the money, he got plagued with a sense of guilt for the rest of the week until he managed to make enough to pay it back. (Not that she knew that part, but ignorance is bliss after all.) That money was probably cursed.

“Thank you! Have a nice day, Sasuke!” Asuka smiled brightly at him as he walked away, wicker basket in his working hand, and if it weren’t for her baby, she’d probably be waving at him. As it was, she made up for it with enthusiasm. “Oh, and I hope your arm feels better soon!”

Sasuke sighed. Let it not be said that most of the villagers were medical experts.

“And stay out!” Jirou’s voice snapped, sounding more annoyed than usual, and Sasuke blinked as up ahead, Eita landed in the dirt road just outside the shop. He picked up his pace, stopping several feet away from the groaning boy. Eita’s friends beat him to it, the four of them standing over him.

“I told you so,” muttered the black-haired one with the runny nose. He sounded just a tad resentful.

“Shut up, Nori! Can’t you see he’s in pain?!” The brunette in the raggedy red kimono snapped, glaring at the boy before her gaze turned back to Eita worriedly. Sasuke’s lips quirked up in amusement as he continued to watch the kids. It seemed Eita was popular with the girls already.

“You shouldn’t talk to your elders like that.” The boy, ‘Nori’, snipped back, raising his nose pompously.

“You’re only six months apart.” The other boy present pointed out, snickering. Nori glowered at him when the girl in the red kimono puffed her chest out triumphantly.

Eita groaned again, pushing himself to a sitting position. “Will you guys just shut up and help me up?” The boys snickered as the girl helped him up. The last member of their group, a somewhat older-looking girl with blonde hair, spotted him watching them, pointing him out to the others.

Eita’s countenance brightened as he ran over, his friends trailing behind him more nervously. “Sasuke-nii! What are you doing here?”

Sasuke held up the bag in his hands. “Shopping. Why were you at the shop?”

The boy’s lips twisted into a pout as he glowered back in the direction of the shop. “That stupid old coot kicked me out for asking him to apprentice me.” Sasuke simply raised an eyebrow, silently encouraging the boy to go on. “I wanted to learn blacksmithing like you, Sasuke-nii, but that bastard won’t even listen to what I have to say!”

Sasuke set the basket down to grab Eita’s cheek and twist, the boy reaching for his hand and shouting objections.

“Ow ow ow! What was that for?!”

“Anna would wash your mouth out with soap if she heard you say that.” The older teen pointed out, picking up the basket again.

“We don’t have soap.” Eita grumbled, and Sasuke decided to take pity on him and ignored that comment.

“If you can’t apprentice with Jirou, why not apprentice with someone else? I hear Yokoyama-san has been looking for one recently.”

“But I wanna do what you do, Sasuke-nii! Making weapons is so much cooler than making some old chair!” He was defiant, that was for sure. Sasuke wondered if he was as stubborn and exasperating as Eita was at that age.

Upon seeing the wrinkles in the boy’s forehead, Sasuke did the first thing that came to mind. He took a finger, poking the boy in the wrinkles hard enough for him to step back, hand covering the area.

“What was that for?!”

“I’d rather have a chair than a weapon. Just think about it.” He replied, walking away with a wave. He had to finish the shopping before dinner, after all.

 

* * *

 

When Eita came home saying Wakama-san wanted to see him, Sasuke really wasn’t sure what to think. Since the incident in the forest, the villagers had stopped asking him for errands, likely knowing about his arm. (Although, he still had people telling him to “get well soon”, even though he was as well as he was going to get.)

Nonetheless, he figured he may as well go see what she needed, so Sasuke gave Eita a poke in the temple as thanks—really, he just enjoyed the boy’s reactions; he always gets so upset that it’s become pretty funny—before leaving the house.

Her house wasn’t far, and he traced a path he hadn’t walked in quite a while.

He rapped on the frame of the doorway, her voice calling out from inside. “Come on in!” He entered, finding a bowl of fresh tomatoes already waiting for him on the low table. He sat on one of the raggedy cushions, not seeing the old woman anywhere. He figured he may as well take the chance and grabbed a tomato.

Only a few moments passed before the old woman came shambling in from the backdoor, beaming upon seeing him. “Well if it isn’t Sasuke! You’ve still got that damn fine ass I hope!” She cackled, and Sasuke deigned not to answer. It was better not to humor her, he found.

“You asked for me?” He said instead, getting right down to business. Wakama-san smiled, nodding to herself as she too sat.

“Ah, yes. My feet have been hurting me all day, so I was hoping you could make a delivery for me.” She pulled out a small box wrapped in a flowery cloth from underneath the little table, setting it with a heavy ‘ _thunk’_ on the wood. Sasuke wondered what the hell could be in it. “You know where little Momoka’s home is, yes? It has the peach tree out front.”

Sasuke sighed, but reluctantly stood as he finished off the tomato he’d been eating before picking up the box by the knot of the cloth tied around it. He wondered again what could possibly be in there.

He gave Wakama-san a small bow before departing, the old lady calling after him, “And don’t you dare drop that! It’s my special recipe!”

_Special recipe of what?_

Nonetheless, he did know where the house was. It wasn’t all that far from Genji’s place, perhaps a little over five minutes away. It stood apart from the rest of the shoddy houses due to the peach tree that sat out front. Unfortunately, the tree was practically dead, as Sasuke had only seen a single flower on the tree. He didn’t know how long it had been there, but it had yet to bloom. Evidently, whatever peaches the tree had once produced were long gone.

Like the rest of the village, they had no door, so when Sasuke reached the place, he rapped his knuckles on the wood of the door frame to announce his presence. “Come in!” An older man’s voice called. He sounded older, perhaps in his fifties. Sasuke’s initial guess was confirmed as he ducked under the raggedy curtain that served as the door to see a middle-aged man seated on the floor. He was kneeling before a small picture of a smiling woman.

Upon Sasuke’s entry, he smiled wearily, standing slowly, almost painfully. “Hello, young man. I don’t believe we’ve met before.”

“Sasuke,” the visitor said, bowing in greeting. The middle-aged man smiled a little wider.

“Oh, you must be Jirou-san’s apprentice. I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Kouno Daisuke. It’s a pleasure to meet you. So what can I do for you?”

Sasuke lifted the box in his hand. “I have a delivery from Wakama-san.” Daisuke’s eyes crinkled in delight as he took the box, carrying it gingerly.

“Ah, thank you. Umeko-san brings these around for us every other year, when she can. They’re a present for my wife.” A sinking feeling in Sasuke’s gut told him where the wife was. He watched, feeling out of place as the man knelt in front of the little picture once more, setting the box between him and the picture. He unwrapped the cloth from around the box and removed the lid, as if it were a ritual. For him, it probably was. “Look, dear. Umeko-san brought your favorites.” He took something out of the box, and Sasuke tilted his body just a little to see around the older man.

The supposed delivery was _namagashi_ , a box of them. In front of his wife Daisuke placed a rabbit-shaped one before the picture, kissing the forehead of the woman in the picture before standing once more, the now open box in hand.

“Would you like one?” Daisuke asked, startling the Uchiha, who blinked owlishly in the man’s direction.

“I don’t wish to be impolite.”

Daisuke shook his head. “Nonsense. Umeko-san made an extra one this year. Besides, my wife would be upset with me if I didn’t share these with the person so kind to deliver them for us.” He held out the box, and resignedly, Sasuke looked inside the box.

There were only five of the miniscule sweets in the box—which didn’t explain how the box was so heavy—six if he included the little rabbit now sitting before the picture. There was a little peach, a paper samurai’s helmet, a peach tree blossom, a bird, and a little tomato. Sasuke smirked at the old woman’s sense of humor as he took the tomato-shaped sweet. While he wasn’t big on sweets, it had been so long since he’d had a little delicacy of any sort that he relished in the flavor of the sweet bean paste.

Daisuke smiled wide at the sight of Sasuke’s face. “Umeko-san knows someone in one of the noble houses that owes her. She’s always given us these, since my wife loved them.” He gestured with his head towards a little doorway on the side of the room. “Why don’t you come and meet the rest of our family with me?”

The man was almost aggressively friendly, so Sasuke complied. The doorway led to a larger room filled with people. This room appeared to have all the amenities, from the old futons folded up in the corner to the table on the other side of the room, with a few plates, bowls, and chopsticks were stacked up to use.

At the table sat Momoka, with her brown hair and eyes and pale skin. She wasn’t hiding the way she did the few times he had seen her, smiling at the dark-skinned boy running around in the middle of the room with a rather scraggly-looking black dog. Sasuke raised a brow; where had they found a dog? More importantly, how were they able to keep it?

Across the table from Momoka was an older woman, not quite as old as Umeko but surely older than Genji, with a stern expression and a stiff posture. She was the first to notice the two of them enter the room, looking disapprovingly at Sasuke.

“And who might this be, Daisuke?” The boy and Momoka looked up in surprise, though the former was interrupted as the dog jumped him, sending him backwards on his butt.

Daisuke simply smiled patiently in the face of the old woman’s withering stare. “This is Sasuke, Jirou’s apprentice.”

Sasuke figured he should at least bow, even if the old hag was crabby as hell. She scoffed in the face of his peace-making attempts. “That old coot’s? Bah.” Sasuke’s eyebrow twitched as he reigned in his annoyance. Daisuke didn’t even blink, still smiling. Sasuke silently commended him for it.

“He delivered Umeko-san’s _namagashi_.” To prove his point, he set the box on the table, just in front of the woman. She didn’t even pause to look at it, taking the bird and popping it into her mouth.

The boy ran up to the table, not heeding the woman’s disapproving scowl as he grabbed the samurai helmet and ate it. He then grabbed the peach, running over to Momoka.

“Here ya go, nee-san!” His voice was muffled due to the treat he had yet to swallow. Momoka simply took the peach-shaped sweet with a small smile.

“Fumio, introduce yourself.” Daisuke admonished lightly, and the boy made a point of groaning in annoyance before trotting up to Sasuke, the dog on his heels.

“I’m Ando Fumio, and this is Ken!” He gestured to the dog beside him. “Eita talks a lot about you, nii-san.” Sasuke blinked, and Fumio snickered before running past him and out the door with the dog.

The older woman huffed. “My name is Hasegawa Eri. I run this household.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Sasuke mumbled in reply.

Eri gave him a hard look before turning to Daisuke. “Daisuke, I wish to speak with you. _Privately_.” Sasuke took the cue, making a quick exit.

He had just stepped back out into the road when a tug on the sleeve of his yukata stopped him. Turning around, the Uchiha saw Momoka, looking nervously at her feet. When he stopped and turned, she dropped her hand, fiddling with them instead.

 _‘Thank you’_ , she mouthed, and Sasuke suddenly understood.

He let his lips quirk upwards, resting his good hand softly atop her head. He could feel her jump, looking up at him with big doe eyes. She was probably about his age, but she acted a lot like a child. “You’re welcome. Next time, don’t be afraid to ask me something.”

She smiled brightly, cheeks going rosy as she nodded enthusiastically, her hands moving rapidly. Sasuke blinked, somewhat surprised. Sign language. She ended with her flat palm coming off her chin, and Sasuke understood that sign from her expression.

_Thank you._

 

* * *

 

Sasuke sighed, stepping back from the fire as he held his newest creation up to the meager light, turning it this way and that. It took a while, trying to balance the weight and shape the blade just right, but he felt that this time, he had done it right.

The blade, more like a dagger, was practically black in color, the hilt just large enough for one’s fist. The other end was rounded off in a small ring, smaller than that of the ones Jirou made. Unlike Jirou’s kunai, he had made the blades thicker, more diamond-shaped before tapering off into a point, rather than the flat knife-like look of the kunai sold at the shop. It couldn’t slash like Jirou’s, but was rather designed more for thrusting and stabbing.

He tested it, throwing it across the room. It landed with a thud, embedding itself into the table. Pride swelled up within him as it stayed there, firmly. He had successfully recreated the kunai he remembered.

Sasuke picked up the blade, throwing open the curtain that separated the forge from the shop. If the man was feeling generous today, he’d give Sasuke permission to create his own stock of kunai with whatever leftover metal they had.

He stopped short, seeing him talking to a group of people. They were dressed differently from the usual villagers and passing travelers, not that Sasuke hadn’t seen their kind once or twice before. They dressed in the black _kosode_ and _hakama_ characteristic of Shinigami, and if that weren’t enough to give them away, the white _tabi_ and straw _waraji_ sure did. Most of the villagers didn’t have shoes, and those that did lacked the _tabi_ —or at least, they lacked intact ones. As Sasuke got closer, he could see a white _shitagi_ underneath the _kosode_.

While Sasuke had heard a lot about Shinigami, though he’d only see them once when they’d passed through the village a few years ago, and even then they hadn’t stopped to socialize.

Jirou was speaking to a young man—perhaps around Anna’s age—with spiked up black hair and a white sleeveless _haori_. There was something about him that annoyed Sasuke. Perhaps it was his face.

Jirou looked annoyed, and as Sasuke got closer, he could see why.

“I told you before and I’ll tell you again. I’ve got nothing to sell you.” The Shinigami in the haori frowned.

“Well, this is quite the dilemma. There aren’t any other blacksmiths nearby, so you’re the only one we can go to.” Even his voice was annoying. Sasuke scowled, walking up to them and interrupting what was definitely an unwanted conversation.

“There’s nothing for you here, so piss off already.” Sasuke groused—he briefly wondered when he’d started sounding like Jirou—which effectively caused them all to turn to him.

One of the other Shinigami glared at him. “And who’s this brat?” He sneered, eyes narrowed almost suspiciously.

Sasuke opened his mouth to answer when Jirou stepped in, placing a firm hand on Sasuke’s shoulder. He gave the teen a look that very clearly said _‘shut the fuck up’_.

“This is my grandson, Sasuke.” Jirou replied, scowling at the man.

The Shinigami sneered again. “It seems insolence runs in the blood.”

The leader of the group waved him off with a sigh. “Well, if we’re not wanted we may as well leave. Sorry for troubling you, Jirou.”

Jirou sighed as well, though this time it was more exasperated than anything else. “Just don’t come back Shiba.” The black-haired Shinigami laughed, as if the blacksmith was referencing an old joke, before waving his crew out.

As soon as they were out of eyesight, Sasuke whirled around to face Jirou, effectively removing the hand from his shoulder. “What was that all about?” He asked, voice a deadly calm.

Jirou scowled, not answering but waving at him to follow the man. Sasuke glared at him, but nonetheless joined him in the forgery, throwing the curtain closed.

“So?”

He watched the blacksmith sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose in either irritation or exhaustion. Perhaps a combination of both. “I suppose no one’s told you yet.” He muttered.

“Told me what?” Sasuke pressed; he was starting to get really tired of this really fast.

Jirou pressed his lips together disapprovingly, but eventually responded. “To put it bluntly, you shouldn’t call yourself an Uchiha.”

Sasuke opened his mouth, paused, and blinked. “I—What?”

Jirou scratched the back of his head, for once seemingly at a loss. “Several years ago, the Uchiha clan prospered in District 1 of North Rukongai. No one knows exactly how they all came to be, but their various skills helped to quickly create enough wealth to rival some of the noble clans. After frequent clashes with the noble clans and some other things I won’t get into, they began to ostracize themselves.” He paused, eyebrows furrowing in what seemed to be anger. “The official story is they were planning a coup against the Seireitei and thus were executed.”

Sasuke waited, but the man didn’t continue. Cold sweat dripped down the back of his neck. “If that’s the official story… what’s the real one?”

Jirou’s voice lowered so quietly that Sasuke had to strain to hear it over the crackling of the fire. “They were massacred by the Shinigami. Plain and simple.” He growled, his voice practically enraged. Almost as if… it was personal.

Sasuke took a shuddering breath and asked the question he didn’t want to know the answer to. “And how do you know that?”

Jirou shook his head, a sad look in his eye. His shoulders sagged with the weight of the world on them. “How do you think, boy? My name is Uchiha Jirou.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some more words for you:
> 
> Namagashi – Traditional Japanese sweets. They’re made of rice flour and a sweet bean paste filling, usually served for tea ceremonies. They’re delicately shaped by hand to reflect the season, though many are shaped in fun things like cats. They may also be filled with things other than sweet bean paste.
> 
> Kosode – that’s basically the black shirt Shinigami wear, to put it in simple and probably incorrect terms.  
> Hakama – AKA the pants.  
> Tabi – the white socks Shinigami have  
> Waraji – the straw sandals.  
> Shitagi – the white undershirt Shinigami wear.  
> Haori – I’m sure most of you know what this is, but for those who don’t, it’s the white overcoat the Captains wear.
> 
> And a fun fact for future reference, for those who don’t know, the uniform as a whole is known as a Shihakusho.  
> But yes, we finally see some shinigami. Any guesses as to who the Captain was?


	5. Cold, Cold Eyes and No Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's been awhile. Don't worry, the next chapter's coming much sooner. I actually had it finished before this one, so........
> 
> I knew before writing this that it would be a really long chapter. I was right.

**1948 – 1949**

It had been six years since Sasuke first woke up in the house. Five years since he lost the use of his left arm. Over time, bits and pieces of his memory had come back. None of it was really useful; just vague faces, a few names, and old injuries that created phantom pains in the early mornings when he woke up. Out of everything, the clearest memories were attacks, abilities he’d never seen in this lifetime. _Jutsu_ , they were called, which used the body’s power of _chakra._ He had spent many days trying to recreate the hand signs he remembered so well. Jirou refused to help him out, and it had prompted quite a few interesting looks from Anna and Genji.

As it was, he sat on his usual chair at the table that morning, letting the woman of the house pull his hair back with a leather tie for him. She did it much better than he did, seeing as he was one-handed, and his hair really was starting to get long. He thought he could leave it, since the ends usually got singed off, but even with that it was starting to tickle his shoulders.

Anna stepped back when she was finished, patting his shoulders. “There, all done.” Sasuke thanked her, but she was already shifting her focus on Mio, who had been pulling at her kimono for a while. Anna laughed as she pulled her daughter into her lap, combing through the girl’s red hair with her fingers. She was already five years old, and while people in Soul Society tended to grow old a little slower than he could recall, that didn’t seem to stop Mio.

Genji entered a few minutes later, bending over slightly to get through the ramshackle doorway. “Ah, Sasuke. Good to see you’re awake. I wanted you to help me run some errands today.”

Sasuke raised a brow, but nodded. Jirou had given him a day off so it wasn’t like he was doing anything else.

The man no longer called him an apprentice; said he’d been taught everything the man could teach him. The rest would come from experience. He was considered an employee now, with pay and days off and, frankly, more respect.

Sasuke stood, thanking Anna briefly for the help before he followed Genji out of the house.

The man led him out onto the main street of the village, where a majority of the shops were located. They strolled along casually, Genji’s bulbous nose swinging from side to side as he glanced at the shops. “It’s been a long time, but I still remember being young.”

Sasuke raised a brow skeptically. Genji saw his face and laughed. “Ya got me, ya got me. I remember being younger, but I suppose I’ve always been a bit on the ripe side of age.” He laughed some more and Sasuke resisted rolling his eyes. The man was obnoxious, sometimes.

They entered the bustle of the main street, or what passed for a marketplace in a small village. Sasuke had to dodge around children and animals and wares, but Genji seemed to walk right through the crowd, as if it opened up for him. And perhaps it was, with all the ease the man had getting through.

He stopped by a little stall selling tiny bowls and mini plates, eyebrows raised in interest. Sasuke watched him, irked and wondering what this man meant by errands.

Someone bumped into him, practically ramming into his useless shoulder and Sasuke growled in annoyance, the perpetual ache in his shoulder intensifying momentarily from the jarring motion. It seemed, within the past few years, the number of people in Soul Society was growing. Well, that, or they all decided to move to the Fox Track district. The latter seemed highly unlikely however, and Sasuke dismissed the idea as soon as it came into mind.

He turned to see if he could spot who rammed into him, intending on terrifying them into submission until they apologized, coming face to face instead with a teary-eyed Momoka. Seeing his face, she relaxed immensely, a small apologetic smile creeping onto her face as her hands blurred in motion.

“Momoka stop.” He stated, not quite able to keep up with her proven dexterity, she did, blinking in confusion. It took him a minute to bring his memories of sign language to mind before he could respond.

_Slow down._

She looked even sorrier, bowing and starting to sign before remembering what he’d just said, signing slower.

_I’m sorry. I just wanted to apologize for bumping into you._

He sighed.

_It’s fine. I’m okay._

She didn’t quite seem to believe him, but someone that sounded quite a bit like Kouno Daisuke called her name, and she bowed again.

_I’m sorry. I have to go now._

He just gave a short half-bow of sorts as she ran off.

Genji appeared at his side not long after, arm newly laden with a little bowl. “I didn’t know you could speak sign language.”

Sasuke debated whether or not answering was a good idea before just sighing and replying. “I’ve been having Momoka teach me.”

The man gave a sound of mild interest in response. “Well, let’s get going. I promised to get something for dinner.”

The “something for dinner” turned out to be in the forest. Sasuke gave Genji a dubious look.

“I thought I’d teach you to do some hunting. I didn’t want to say anything immediately because I knew Eita would want to come to, but he’s not quite… patient enough yet.” From within his yukata the older man pulled out a hunting knife in a leather sheath. Sasuke surmised that it was probably a gift from Jirou, given the style.

The man led the way amidst the trees, stepping carefully at every turn. “Now, the key here is patience. If you’re too impatient, your catch will escape you.” He stopped, unsheathed the knife. “I’ll teach you how to set traps after we get something to eat. And then I can show you how to skin your catch and cook it.”

Sasuke watched the man peer through the trees.

“Why are you teaching me this?”

Genji didn’t respond for a few moments, but when he did Sasuke could catch a glimpse of his weary smile in the scattered sunlight.

“I know you’ve been training when you think we aren’t looking. You spend more time outside the village than in it, not counting your hours at Jirou’s place. If you want to travel, Sasuke, travel. If you want to leave and never come back, then leave. But I’m not going to let you go out there on your own and get yourself killed because you don’t know how to take care of yourself.” He looked back for a brief moment, held his gaze, and Sasuke looked away, feeling guilty for some unfathomable reason. “I know you don’t think of us as a family, but you’re family to us. I just hope that you find the people that mean family to you.”

* * *

 

It had been only a couple months since he left the village, though he hadn’t quite left Fox Track yet, staying only a week away from the village at a time. Genji's lessons on hunting and cooking had been useful, though Sasuke still found himself better at fishing than hunting or cooking. Some things were just impossible to do with one hand, regardless of how skilled one could be. Of course, that didn't mean he didn't try.

It was interesting to see the differences between the villages of Fox Track, and he was anticipating eventually seeing the difference between the districts themselves.

Sasuke sighed, paying for the mediocre drink as he escaped the dank lighting and odd smell of the grimy bar. It was late and that place had been a complete waste of time. The grimy town outside was bustling with the night life, a place where criminals thrived.

He’d been hoping to hear some clues about the Goat’s Teeth—a local mercenary group that had gained a recent liking for blood. They had racked up their bounty pretty quickly, and Sasuke figured it would be an easy way to make money. He had been wrong.

It wasn’t even that they were a strong opponent; rather, it was more like they were skilled cowards. It was nearly impossible to find them, as the members were extremely tight-lipped. The only way to pick one out of the crowd was by the tattoo that adorned their backs. And it wasn’t like he could just go tearing at people’s clothes.

He’d already tried that. It hadn’t gone over too well.

There really wasn’t much more he could do, and after a short walk and some careful deliberation, Sasuke decided he might as well find a nice tree to sleep in.

He had taken a disliking to lodges and generous homeowners after the first night filled with giggly women. After the second night, when he awoke to find himself half-dressed, he refused to stay in such a shady-looking place ever again.

Instead, he started carrying around a small mat to sleep on, camping just outside of towns and villages. He found that he preferred that. There was something comforting about the looming presence of large trees and of the bright eyes of stars staring down at him.

The word _Konoha_ came to mind.

Sasuke didn’t know what it meant, didn’t know what it referred to, but the simultaneous and almost overpowering sense of affection and anger told him that _Konoha_ was important to him.

He unrolled the mat under a nice sturdy oak and laid back on it, seeing the stars beginning to peek through the leaves and branches as the last rays of the sunlight disappeared. He closed his eyes.

* * *

 

_“Naruto!! Move your ass! I want to sit on the other side of you!”_

_The blond idiot only looked confused and Sasuke found the two of them extremely annoying. It was too early in the morning for anyone to be screaming. Maybe if he pretended they didn’t exist…_

_“Sasuke, can I sit next to you?” Sakura’s voice was loud and obnoxious and Sasuke tried not to glare too much from the corner of his eyes, despite the fact that he couldn’t understand her from the racket that spewed from her mouth. Not that it was hard to guess what she was asking._

_“…What?”_

_Naruto seemed offended at his response, though he couldn’t fathom_ why _. It’s not like he had been talking to the blond after all._

_His response was thus ignored, and the pink-haired girl sidled up next to him, her face twisted in a pleasing and benevolent smile that didn’t look right on her features. The look irritated him._

_On the other hand, a certain blonde’s very honest and blatant scowl directed at him was equally irritating. Sasuke didn’t know what to do to get away from them without causing more problems, but it appeared he didn’t have to worry about it. Naruto caused enough problems on his own without help._

_Sasuke’s irritable nature in the mornings was a challenge in and of itself, but Naruto’s scowling features three inches from his face only served to make him irritable for entirely different reasons than the early morning. But he refused to back down, glaring at vibrant blue eyes that reciprocated in kind._

_“Move it,” they growled simultaneously, ignoring the jeering coming from his fan club. They were unimportant, and far less interesting._

_“Naruto!!” Sakura’s voice screeched, and then her voice was crying out his name for an entirely different reason._

_There’s a righteous anger, and power surges through him as he charges forward. “I won’t show you any mercy!”_

_And then she’s screaming his name—Naruto’s name—and Sasuke wonders why that hurts so much._  

* * *

 

Sasuke woke up to the sunrise. It seemed that he had been dreaming often as of late, and always of the same people. A boy that seemed nothing more than a nuisance and a girl that seemed like a stalker more than anything else. But they seemed… important, somehow.

There was occasionally another man, with silver hair and a face he couldn’t remember. He couldn’t remember who this man was or why he was relevant, but there was some relation between him and Naruto and Sakura.

Despite the memories he had regained of them, those two names he held close to his heart. At the sound of them, his chest ached with longing and a type of affection so intense that he wasn’t sure how to describe it. They were important, he was sure of it.

Sasuke often spent many mornings like this, contemplating the fragments of memories he had dreamt of and trying to fit them into their proper place in the puzzle that was his life.

Sasuke watched the last of the stars disappear into the sunlight through the leaves and absently wondered if he was the only one in the afterlife.

* * *

 

“Sasuke-nii! You’re back!”

Sasuke grunted as Eita nearly bowled him over, the boy’s arms wrapping around him briefly before pulling back. Eita was growing up fast; he was nearly taller than Sasuke.

“Sasuke-nii, guess what? I apprenticed under Yokoyama-jii!” Sasuke raised an eyebrow. Yokoyama Kazuhiko was the local woodcarver. He made nearly all the furniture in town, and had been thinking about retiring soon. At least, since Sasuke had last heard. Evidently the man hadn’t retired just yet.

“Why the change of heart?” He questioned dryly, and Eita scowled at the reminder of his failed attempts with Jirou.

“You said you wanted a chair, remember? So I’m going to make the most comfortable chair you’ll ever have!”

He hadn’t quite meant that he wanted a chair, but he supposed it worked out. It’s not like anything could change the kid’s mind at this point.

“I’ll look forward to it.”

Eita grinned and ran off.

Sasuke shook his head, finally getting the chance to actually enter the home. Genji and Anna were both out again it seemed. He sat down at the table with a groan of protest from one of the chairs, sighing at the relief of finally getting off his feet.

He thought he’d finally get a chance at some peace and quiet in the home, closing his eyes in contentment. The smell of the home was nostalgic, and he breathed in deep.

The silence was interrupted by a knock on the doorframe, and Sasuke opened his eyes, trying not to show his irritation.

Two children stood there nervously, both Sasuke vaguely recognized as Eita’s friends. A red-faced brunette in a red kimono faded from use looked from him to the floor nervously. “U-Um, excuse us…”

The boy wiped at his runny nose. “You’re Sasuke-san, aren’t you? Eita’s big brother.” He blinked, black hair slick against his forehead.

Sasuke gave him the barest of nods.

The girl shoved her companion with a few not so quiet words about being polite before she looked back at Sasuke with a small smile on her face. Their interactions reminded him of Naruto and Sakura a little. (He hoped that didn’t mean he was supposed to be Eita.)

“I-I’m Ojima Aika, and this is Samurakami Nori.” She gestured to the snot-nosed kid next to her. “We’re looking for Eita. Is he here?”

Aika’s demeanors reminded him of Sakura before they were part of a team. It surprised him how he wasn’t annoyed by it the way he used to be. It was almost cute. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that he knew there was no chance of him getting with a girl nearly half his age.

“You just missed him.” The Uchiha grunted, and if there was a hint of disappointment on the brunette’s face, he paid it no mind.

The two bowed, thanked him, and left.

Sasuke sighed, leaning back and debating just taking a nap until Genji or Anna returned when his peace was interrupted again. A boy with dirty blond hair and freckles covering his face ran in, tripping over the dirt and landing face first in it.

If Sasuke had been anyone but Uchiha Sasuke, he would’ve busted out laughing.

As it was, he simply watched as the boy hauled himself up onto his feet, brushing off his green yukata covered in patches, rubbing at his face. Sasuke didn’t bother pointing out the dirt still on his nose.

“The name’s Imai Hironori, sir! It’s an honor to meet you sir!” The boy shouted, not quite looking at the Uchiha as he bowed stiffly at a perfect ninety degree angle.

A taller girl—she looked somewhat older than Aika, with long blonde hair—arrived, pulling Hironori up from his bow. “Calm down, Hironori.” She turned and smiled at Sasuke with a more mature, calm demeanor about her when compared to the other children. “It’s nice to formally meet you, Sasuke-nii-san. My name is Kudo Madoka. You haven’t seen Eita or Aika around have you? Aika is the little brunette with the red kimono.”

“They just left.” Sasuke grunted, and Madoka thanked him before dragging Hironori off.

“Thank you! Sir!” The blond boy shouted just before he was out of earshot.

Sasuke snorted, getting up and dragging his body into the back room before someone else arrived. He was going to take a nap. Afterwards, he’d stay for dinner and breakfast, catch up with Anna and Genji. Then perhaps he’d head out in the morning.

* * *

 

The body didn’t even hit the ground before disintegrating into nothingness. Sasuke sighed, sheathing _Itachi no Kinen_. They were starting to become more of an annoyance than training. The field he was in was stained with blood; from what he could judge, it wasn’t much more than a single person. Yet another person he couldn’t help. Sasuke clicked his tongue irately, before turning around to leave, cloak pulled back as the breeze picked up.

“So the rumors were true.” The voice came not much further than a few feet away, and Sasuke’s katana was out in less than a second. It resulted in the clash of metal as blade met blade. “Now that’s no way to meet an old acquaintance.”

Sasuke scowled as an annoyingly familiar face came into view as his eyes focused. All he saw was spiked up black hair and the cheeky face of a lecher that was just begging for Sasuke’s fist before said fist answered the plea. The Shinigami flipped backwards, limbs flying as Sasuke sheathed his blade, prepared to leave before the idiot got up. He didn’t get the chance, however, as the Shinigami popped right back to his feet almost immediately.

“Wait! You can’t just punch me and leave! I could have you arrested for that, you know!” The Shinigami called out, and the Uchiha resisted the urge to stab the man through the gut, right hand gripping the hilt of his blade. An arm swung itself around his shoulders, and his grip tightened. “Aw, c’mon, don’t be like that! It’s been two years, hasn’t it? How’s Jirou doing?”

“I don’t have to answer to people I don’t know.” The Shinigami stopped, thankfully removing his arm.

“Yeah, we were never properly introduced, were we?” He grinned. “Well, the name’s Shiba Isshin, Captain of the Tenth Division of the Gotei 13.” When Sasuke didn’t answer, the man _pouted._ Sasuke was starting to understand why Jirou hated Shinigami so much. “You aren’t going to introduce yourself?”

Unfortunately, Anna had drilled manners into him.

“Sasuke,” he hissed through gritted teeth. Shiba Isshin beamed.

“Well it’s nice to properly meet you, Sasuke!” Sasuke was praying to the Soul King that the man would leave now that he had introduced himself, but alas, it was not to be. “So how long have you been killing hollows?” Sasuke didn’t answer. “You see, the number of hollows going missing has caught the attention of the Captain-Commander. He was going to send someone out to investigate.”

“So he sent you?” Sasuke asked sarcastically; the idea of this idiot as one of the most powerful members of the Gotei 13 was actually a little funny. He wondered just how incompetent they had to be to appoint such people as their leaders.

“I volunteered actually. I had a hunch, and it seems I was right.” Sasuke attempted to ignore him. He wasn’t very successful.

“So what? Are you going to arrest me now?”

Isshin clapped a hand to his chest, as if Sasuke’s words had physically wounded him. “What? You really think so low of me?!”

The Uchiha snorted at the man’s antics. “You threatened to have me arrested five minutes ago.” He muttered, shaking his head. Sasuke turned to leave again, for sure this time.

“Have you thought about attending Shino Academy? I’m sure with your abilities, you could get in easily.” The Captain’s question stopped Sasuke in his tracks. He tried not to look as interested as he actually was.

“…What’s Shino Academy?”

He could practically hear Isshin’s grin. “The school people attend to become Shinigami. I think you could get something out of it, learn to properly utilize all your abilities.”

Sasuke didn’t answer as his thoughts went to war in his head, but he was saved from having to give a response he may end up regretting later when Isshin spoke again.

“Well, you don’t have to decide now, I suppose. Just think about it.” When a minute of silence passed, Sasuke assumed the man had left.

There was no sign of a _shihakusho_ and Sasuke sighed, partly in relief, and partly in exhaustion. An academy for Shinigami…

Sasuke scoffed. Right. Like he would even want to do something so pointless.

Isshin landed before him in a flicker, and Sasuke cursed at the suddenness of the man’s appearance. No, he would not admit that he had been caught off-guard.

“One last thing. I’d appreciate it if you could stop killing hollows. I’ll get in trouble if you don’t.”

When he left this time, Sasuke groaned.

* * *

 

Sasuke reached for another kunai, only to find the bag much emptier compared to the last one he’d checked. He pulled out one of the three remaining blades with a grimace, throwing it with an unnatural ease in the flick of his wrist. The thug before him fell to the floor, unconscious. Sasuke walked over with a casual gait, bending over and resting an arm on one knee as he pulled up the head by a spiky net of brown hair.

Shunki Mukade, with a bounty of 185,000 kan. His bounty should be more than enough to last him another trip back to replenish his supplies. He pulled out his katana, intending to take only the head—it was much less of a hassle, even if it was a little messier—only to see the usually razor sharp edge of the blade beginning to dull. With a sigh, he sheathed the blade, throwing the living sack of meat over his shoulder. It seemed he’d have to sharpen the _Itachi no Kinen_ as well when he returned.

It wasn’t quite as far from the office as he thought it’d be, and Sasuke dropped off the body, collecting his reward before escaping the dreamy sighs of a delirious-looking old clerk. If it wouldn’t be such a hassle to deal with after, he’d carve up his own face just to get a break from those reactions.

He brought just enough clean water and mold-free food to last him the trip back, hightailing it out of the dilapidated town without looking in too much of a rush. No one tried to stop him or get in his way, and for that Sasuke was grateful.

The trip back to the village was tedious and boring, and Sasuke found his thoughts wandering into places he had expressly forbid them from.

_“Have you thought about attending Shino Academy?”_

It was ridiculous. That man was completely idiotic. Why should he stop doing what he’d been doing just because some Shinigami asked him to?

“ _I’d appreciate it if you could stop killing hollows. I’ll get in trouble if you don’t.”_

Like he cares if the man gets in trouble for it. Of course, that might just prompt another unwanted visit…

Sasuke cursed Shiba Isshin under his breath. He banished the man from his mind, though he could tell the shinigami’s presence still danced at the edges of his thoughts. He very pointedly ignored it.

The man’s words would continue to haunt him for the next five days.

Sasuke had set out the afternoon of the fifth day. He was pretty close and figured he’d catch a rabbit for Anna on his way. The blasted creature was wily, even for a rabbit, and while Sasuke normally wouldn’t have any trouble catching it, a fox had attempted to steal his catch, grabbing the rabbit from its trap and running off with it.

He snarled at the creature in irritation before giving chase.

_‘I bet the Academy doesn’t make its students catch their own food.’_

Spite whispered, and Sasuke found himself agreeing before resisting the urge to shake his head, ridding the idea from his mind.

_‘I have no reason to go. I wouldn’t be welcomed anyways.’_

He jumped the fox, the mammal giving out a cry as he snatched his rabbit back and taking off. He was too fast for the creature to catch him, and spent another half hour trying to find his way back to the path.

The rest of the remaining way was spent arguing with Spite and Reason.

The village came into sight quickly due to a combination of his quick pace and inner conflict, and Sasuke maneuvered past the bustling citizens doing some last minute shopping or hurrying home from a long day of work. He figured he’d stop by the house first, dodging around a kid he knew would try to pickpocket him. Not that she’d get away with it, but he’d rather avoid the issue altogether.

Anna was already starting to make a meal when he arrived, Eita entertaining Mio with the oldest, rattiest pair of cards he’d ever seen. It appeared the boy was trying to teach her how to play Go Fish, but from the mess on the table, it wasn’t working out very well.

They all stopped when he entered, greeting him with bright smiles.

“Welcome home, Sasuke!” Anna chirped, and Mio decided that she had to be known, giving her own greeting with twice the enthusiasm.

“Welcome home, Sasuke-nii!” She tripped over her words some, didn’t pronounce his name quite right, but he gave her a small half-smile and a nod of approval, at which she beamed.

“I brought some rabbit.” He held up the hard-won catch, and Genji came in from the back room, looking delighted at the sight of a fresh meal.

“Now this is why I keep you around!” He barked a laugh, snatching the animal out of his hands and heading outside. “I’m going to skin this and cook it. Anna, you just focus on what you’re doing.” Anna thanked him before Genji left the house with an old, but well-loved hunting knife. Sasuke rolled his eyes, taking a seat by Eita at the table.

“Sasuke-nii,” Mio reached out across the wood for him, and Sasuke let her hold his good hand, playing with his fingers. She had begun doing it not long after she turned four, finding some sort of comfort in his hands. If it wasn’t his, it was her mother’s or Eita’s or Genji’s. He didn’t quite understand her fascination, but had long since accepted it as a quirk. “Sasuke-nii,” she repeated, “Eita-nii’s playing Good Fish with me.”

“It’s Go Fish.” Eita muttered, but she ignored him, more intent on trying to speak and play with Sasuke’s hand at the same time.

“I want Sasuke-nii to play too. But you have to be on my team.” She emphasized her point by now tugging at his hand, as if trying to pull him over the table.

Sasuke didn’t need to respond as Anna stepped in. “He can play with you later, Mio. It’s almost time for dinner.”

As if on cue, the smell of cooked rabbit floated into the room and Eita groaned.

“It smells so _good_ …”

“Then,” Mio pouted, “Then, Sasuke-nii has to play after dinner.” She tugged on his hand some more.

“I have to go see Jirou later.”

“No!” Her bright eyes held all the anger of a defiant child not getting their way. “You gotta play!”

Sasuke stared into her eyes a little longer—they held some sort of power, he was sure—before sighing in acquiescence. “I’ll go see him tomorrow then.”

She graced him with her approval, grinning widely. Sasuke just resigned himself to his fate.

* * *

 

The next day, Mio didn’t release him until after dinner, when Genji successfully distracted her with a flower crown he had made. Sasuke thanked the man before hastily making his escape to meet up with the old blacksmith.

The two of them sat there that evening, Jirou polishing the pots that sat on the display table at the front of the shop. Sasuke had pulled out a whetstone, the blocks of stone usually set in a pile off to the side of the shop. They were for sale, but no one ever bought them. He sharpened the _Itachi no Kinen_ with methodical movements from his seat on the street not too far from the shop. Several kunai lay spread out beside him, waiting their turn.

It was quiet in the shop, which wasn’t unusual, but for once there weren’t any pending projects to be done.

_“Have you thought about attending Shino Academy?”_

Sasuke’s eye twitched in annoyance as he banished the voice from his head. He needed to think of something else. What was something else?

“Hey, old man…” He mumbled, and a thought popped into his mind. He wondered why he hadn’t thought of it before. He spoke up again, louder this time. “Why did you decide to call yourself Uchiwa? It seems...”

Jirou barked out a rumbling laugh at his pause, likely interpreting his attempt to find the right word as something else entirely. “Obvious? Uncreative? Stupid?” He offered, and Sasuke, having nothing better to add, just shrugged. “Have you ever heard of reverse psychology, boy?”

“It’s a technique involving the advocacy of a belief or behavior opposite to the one desired with the expectation that the subject, encouraged by this approach, will do the opposite of what is advocated.” Sasuke replied without hesitation. He had never done much reading—there weren’t any books in the village, and Sasuke had never had the particular desire to pick up any of the scrolls or pages he’d seen around—yet he’d always had this plethora of knowledge stowed away in his brain, just waiting for the right word or event to unlock it. Not that he was complaining.

Jirou nodded, not seeming particularly put off by Sasuke’s near-textbook answer. “Shinigami are either apathetic about criminals, or they’re just unbelievably idiotic. I have used this name for years, and not once has a Shinigami so much as given me a strange look. Perhaps they think the Uchiha are too proud to hide, or perhaps that no one would choose such an obvious name. But it’s worked.”

“What about Captain Shiba?” Sasuke removed his katana from the whetstone, setting it by the kunai to be polished and cleaned later as he picked up the first kunai to be sharpened, and waited patiently for a response.

He pretended not to feel the sharp gaze Jirou sent his back. “How do you know his name?”

Sasuke shrugged, setting down the kunai and picking up another one so he didn’t have to look at his boss. “We’ve run into each other once or twice. So what about him? What makes him special?”

The thing with getting Jirou to talk, Sasuke learned, was to keep pressing until he returned with an answer. If one was too insistent, he’d just get angry and wouldn’t say a word. On the other hand, not being insistent enough would give the old man an excuse to drop the subject. Keeping up a disinterested mask while prying out the information was key; despite that, Sasuke didn’t often succeed. Genji was the only one who really knew how to get what he wanted, but Sasuke suspected that was because Jirou had a bit of a soft spot for his old friend.

It seemed that luck was on Sasuke’s side this time, however.

“…We’ve known each other since before the massacre.” He grumbled in reply.

Sasuke raised an eyebrow in response, but the man didn’t elaborate.

They sat in silence for the rest of the evening, until Sasuke was packing away his new kunai and putting the whetstone back in its proper place.

Another question wormed itself to the forefront of his mind as he was tying his katana to his _obi_ , and he figured ‘why the hell not’?

“Can you teach me how you make blades?” Sasuke looked into a similar pair of coal black eyes, trying to convey that no, he was not joking.

It wasn’t that the man hadn’t taught him how to make a sword, but rather, the man didn’t teach him how to make _his_ sword. Each blacksmith had a different technique, a different way of doing things. But there was something about Jirou’s blades that were sturdier, lighter, cleaner. The _Itachi no Kinen_ was a masterpiece, a beautiful blade forged with his soul, and Sasuke doubted he could replicate the very epitome of years’ worth of work. But he could try goddammit.

Jirou just scowled, turning back to the pot he was polishing.

“Stop copying me, boy. Create your own weapons.”

Sasuke scowled right back, not deigning that response with an answer as he turned on his heel and left.

* * *

 

Sasuke sighed, content to see the village slowly coming closer. He had been gone for the longest time yet—nearly a month—and he was looking forward to an actual meal and bed to sleep in. Anna always got meat when she could help it for when he returned, and Jirou would no doubt let him use the forge again to sharpen his blades. When it came to the upkeep of the _Itachi no Kinen_ , the man spared no expense. It was his pride and joy; Sasuke could tell that much after the man demanded the blade be handed over for inspection every time he returned from a trip.

He had just about reached the entrance, and stopped, frowning. It was unusually quiet at this time of day. Normally, the clamor of people closing up shop and heading home for the night could be heard, along with the noise the children made as they were eventually herded inside.

Shaking his head, Sasuke started moving again. There was only one way to find out after all.

He had barely stepped within the boundaries of the village when an overpowering metallic smell assaulted his senses. Sasuke doubled forward from the sheer intensity of it, his right hand clamping over his nose and mouth in an attempt to block out the smell.

There was something wrong.

He brought his senses under control, breathing shallowly through his mouth as he started running, one step away from sprinting. The village was silent, eerily so, but as he got into the busier streets, he stumbled to a stop, legs losing strength from the shock.

There was blood _everywhere_. He gagged as his eyes caught sight of a limp arm hanging out of a doorway. From the size, its owner couldn’t have been older than Eita.

That thought sent him running again, eyes flicking back and forth against his will at the sheer amount of death surrounding him. He didn’t dwell on it, didn’t focus on the limp body parts or the lifeless, pale faces still frozen in fear. He raced past it, straight for his home, his _family._

The street, compared to the rest, wasn’t quite as violent, not quite as stained with blood. He made a beeline for the house, its normally warm and inviting entrance now foreboding.

He burst through, eyes looking frantically around the main room. It was empty. He wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or afraid as he entered the bedroom, only to find it empty as well. No one was home. It was possible, then, that they had escaped before everything had happened.

 _Or they were in the middle of it all, back on the main street,_ that evil little voice in the back of his head whispered, and Sasuke cursed at it. He wouldn’t think like that.

His feet took him back to the main street nonetheless, eyes now looking at the corpses that littered the area, searching for a particular face. He regretted looking at their faces, though he still kept at it. He recognized many of them. Umeko lay flat in the middle of the street, one of her arms missing from the rest of her body. Sasuke found it several feet away, hidden under a child’s body.

Ishii Asuka sat slumped against her stall, her baby—now nothing more than a pile of flesh and blood—still in her arms. She used to sell him fruits, even gave him one for free on occasion. Anna had spoken to her often. The two were good friends.

Nori, Hironori, Aika, and Madoka all lay in a wayward pile in the corner of an alleyway connected to the main street. Their bodies were mutilated at various degrees, but their faces were all intact, staring up at him in cold terror, mouths open, as if they’d been screaming. Those bodies used to belong to Eita’s friends, the same children that would ask him to tell stories of his travels.

The Uchiha held his breath as he moved closer to them. He moved their bodies apart, hoping that Eita’s face would not appear amongst them, trying to be as gentle as possible. Parts of their corpses would fall from the body, appendages held together only by a few muscles hitting the ground with a sickening thud.

The sound of Madoka’s head as it fell from her body was the breaking point for him. Sasuke dropped Madoka’s body as gently but as quickly as he could, running out of the alley. He fell to his knees just as he rounded the corner, and his stomach convulsed, spilling its contents onto the dirt. Tears dripped down his nose, mixing with the slosh as his throat burned. Even when there was nothing left in his stomach, he continued to heave, coughing.

Sasuke sat there for several minutes, eyes screwed shut, breathing deeply and trying not to realize how quickly he’d gotten used to the smell of blood.

He stumbled to his feet—Eita wasn’t there, back in that alley—and his legs barely kept him upright as he continued down the street.

Takaki Yuuma lay face down in the street, arm stretched out, hand grasping for a sword just out of reach. He was Jirou’s best customer, spent more time in the shop than anyone else. He always praised Sasuke’s work.

Sasuke inhaled sharply. The old man.

He would’ve been able to protect himself, right? After all, he created weapons for a living. Therefore it was only natural that he knew how to use them as well. There was a strangled scream, and Sasuke raced towards it before his mind had even caught up with the fact.

The source of the sound wasn’t far off, and Sasuke traced it back to the shop. He felt the blood drain from his face. The shop was a mess—broken blades lay everywhere, stuck in walls or overturned tables. The curtain that separated the forgery from the rest of the shop lay in tatters on the ground. Another scream, this time from within the forgery.

Sasuke took a deep breath, drawing his blade in one hand and holding a kunai in the other. He crept quietly inside the shop, body tense as he avoided the broken blades on the ground. Quietly, he stepped through the threshold and into the forgery.

There was so much blood, and Sasuke didn’t think he could see straight. Jirou’s body lay before him, labored breaths the only sound inside other than that sickening noise of teeth gnawing on human flesh. It was a hollow, but at the same time it wasn’t like any hollow he had ever seen.

It wasn’t much larger than a person, but its body bent in unnatural directions. The limbs were too long, too skinny, the spine protruding from its back. The nails that came in points like claws pierced flesh with ease. Its white mask was partially broken, likely from an attack by Jirou, if the cracks and the blood coating its head were anything to go by.

Jirou groaned as the creature bit into the already mutilated flesh of his shoulder, fingers twitching around the broken remains of a blade. His eyes fluttered, staring at Sasuke. He was still alive.

 

_Bodies littered the streets, weapons still embedded in the walls. They were all dead._

 

Sasuke tried to be completely silent, raised his blade, and the hollow turned around to face him. Where the mask had been broken he could see an eye—a human eye that stared at him, assessing, waiting.

 

_He stopped in the middle of the street. Someone had been watching him. He froze. The lights. They weren’t lit._

 

The hollow did something that he’d thought was impossible for a skull. It grinned.

 

_Cold, cold eyes. Emotionless red eyes. A voice spoke. That voice wrought mixed emotions in him—love, hate, admiration, betrayal. Father’s eyes. Cold, emotionless. Dead. Staring at him._

 

It turned around, standing on its two legs and leaving Jirou’s body to turn towards him, salivating. Sasuke panicked.

 

_He paused, breathing hard. Panicking. Someone was in there. He commanded his limbs to move. He opened the door._

_They were dead, collapsed in a pool of their own blood. Father, mother._

 

The creature lunged for him, and Sasuke screamed, swinging recklessly at it with his blade. The creature ignored the weapon in favor of attacking him. His katana cut deep into the creature’s shoulder, but it gave no indication of pain, jaw unhinging and closing with a crunch over his left shoulder.

 

_Cold red eyes stared at him. He held hope. Weapons flew past him, tore a cut in his shoulder. Cold red eyes stared at him. Everyone around him was dying. Over and over again. Father, mother. Pools of blood._

 

Sasuke screamed, pain blinding him. He stabbed at it with the kunai wildly, the tip piercing various spots along the hollow’s back. It didn’t seem to even notice, releasing him only for its jaw to unhinge again to take another bite.

Sasuke kicked back at it, falling backwards as he scrambled back, trying to get away. The hollow looked unhappy, seeing its prey get away, and leapt at him. He tried to lift his katana, but he was only half-successful. His arm wouldn’t work the way he wanted it to.

 

_"You’re not even worth killing.”_

 

It impaled itself on his blade, and Sasuke inhaled sharply. His hands were shaking, but they still gripped the blade firmly. The creature was still moving, jaw clicking as it attempted to get a bite of him. Sasuke let out a small, strangled sound, the creature’s jaw only inches from his face, and he took the kunai that had fallen to the ground, impaling the mask.

The hollow disintegrated slowly, and Sasuke heaved as he dropped both weapons, but didn’t throw up. His shoulder was in pain, so much more than the usual ache that accompanied it. A choked sob escaped, and Sasuke looked up, saw Jirou looking back at him.

He crawled towards the man with his right hand, knees shuffling through the growing pool of blood as Sasuke reached him. The wound in Jirou’s shoulder was impossible for him to be able to wrap up. The flesh around his shoulder and collarbone, practically up into his neck, had all been eaten away. Jirou wheezed, turning his head to watch as Sasuke stood there, right hand hovering over the blacksmith’s wound, trembling.

“Just… Just hold on. I-I’m sure help is coming. Y-you’ll be okay. J-just…” Sasuke rambled, gasping for air that didn’t seem to come. His vision was fuzzy, but at the same time he could see in crystal clarity.

Jirou’s hand brushed his, the most action he could perform with it, but Sasuke got the message, looking up. Jirou shook his head, slowly, with only the barest movement. Sasuke’s mouth opened and closed in desperation, trying to find something to say. The focus left Jirou’s eyes. Eventually, so did the light.

 

_“Why Itachi?”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you hate me now? All my beautiful villagers, dead. It’s okay. They live on in my heart! >:3 To be honest, I was simply trying to find a way to get Sasuke out of the village and into an area where things actually happen (AKA Seireitei). It was just a testament to my depravity that the first thing that came up was mass murder.
> 
> Kan – the currency of Soul Society  
> Obi – essentially the belt part of a yukata. There are more specific names, but I didn’t feel a real need to go into those kinds of details.


	6. Making a Cemetery With One Arm is Really Hard

**1949**

When Sasuke woke up that morning, he wondered why he wasn’t at home. When he looked around, he wished he could be.

Jirou stared at him with empty black eyes. Sasuke shivered and looked away.

He was sitting in a drying pile of blood. It covered his yukata, staining the dark blue color into an ugly purplish hue. He stood, and the movement caused him to gasp, pain jarring him awake. His neck and shoulder were caked in blood, though if he were honest he wasn’t sure if all of it was his. Sasuke leaned against the wall, trying not to catch his breath. The smell of blood was so strong that if the pain in his shoulder wasn’t so overpowering he would be dry heaving.

Sasuke breathed shallowly through his mouth, flashbacks to the hollow incident flitting through his mind. Sasuke’s mind froze.

_Eita. Mio._

Sasuke’s breath hitched. His eyes stung. He took a shuddering breath, screwed his eyes shut, and clenched his teeth. Now was not the time to mourn.

He took another shuddering breath and pulled himself off the wall, clutching his left arm just under the wound. He couldn’t move his arm. Whatever progress he’d made in the past six years since the Incident had been set back. His fingers twitched, his wrist could even bend, but accompanied only with a lot of pain.

He blinked the black spots out of his eyes before moving slowly out of the room. Before anything else, he needed to treat the wound. He was losing blood much too quickly.

Jirou always kept a meager supply of bandages and medicine in case of burns or other such incidents, not that it ever happened. Which was surprising considering the lack of safety precautions. Sasuke refused to look back as he left the now cold forge.

The supply sat by the box Jirou kept money in until the end of the day, placed in the back corner of the room by the apron rack. Sasuke carefully unstuck the cloth still sitting on the wound, blood half-dried, pulling it off as he grabbed the bandages and proceeded to clean and wrap up the bite, binding it as tightly as he could. The bone was definitely broken, and no doubt the muscle was torn again. Sasuke pulled his sleeve back on when he was finished, not having any other clothes to change into.

He stepped out of the shop, dragging his feet down the main street of the village.

The once peaceful and lively village was filled with carnage, helpless innocents slaughtered without mercy. There were people he knew, people he didn’t. And no one had come to help, not even in the aftermath. They’d be left to rot, until nothing was left of the village but ash and dust.

Empty eyes stared up at him, and Sasuke knew he couldn’t just leave them like this. He made a beeline for a large shed at the closer end of the residential district. Since they had few tools and little use for them, the majority of the village had agreed to keep it all in a community shed.

He’d never needed to even go near the shed before, but well…

Sasuke grabbed one of the few shovels in the shed, dragging it with him. He knew a good place, just outside of town.

The field was large, and empty, and it suited his purposes well. Sasuke began digging.

* * *

 

There were a lot of empty graves. Piles of dirt beside the holes made it hard to maneuver around without falling into each. Sasuke wasn’t quite sure it would be enough, but he had already gone through all the shovels, broken each one as he awkwardly dug. The last of the shovels had broken before he’d finished. His good hand ached and bled from the amount of time he’d spent digging with it. Night had fallen a long time ago. The sun was starting to set again.

Sasuke decided to get some sleep. He slept on the dirt right by the last hole.

When he awoke only a few hours later, flakes of dirt falling from his hair, his good shoulder aching from the awkward sleeping position, the sun had just risen from the sky, the last streaks of sunrise beginning to disappear. He hated how he was unfazed by the strange places he found himself waking up in.

The Uchiha grunted as he hauled himself to his feet. He glanced at the nearest hole, not quite as neat as the rest. Sasuke headed back into the village. The smell of carnage was starting to fill the place, the flesh starting to rot. Sasuke breathed through his mouth, but found himself not quite as bothered by the smells as he probably should be. He awkwardly picked up a corpse—he only vaguely knew the face that stared past him with dead eyes—forcing his injured arm to move as much as it was able, grunting as he carried it slowly back to the field.

He tried to lower the corpse into the grave gently, but it was hard to do so with only one good arm, and the corpse more or less just fell in rather ungracefully. Sasuke spent another half hour filling in the hole.

The young man continued this process slowly, gathering up the nearest corpse, bringing it from the village to the field and placing it in a grave. Some he knew better than others; some he had never known at all.

He tried to lift Asuka’s body; her baby fell out of her arms and tumbled to the ground. Despite the mutilation of the child, Sasuke still half-expected it to give out a cry, a whimper, something that indicated it to still be alive. There was only silence.

He carried Asuka’s body back to the field and placed her in the grave. He started to bury her, pushing the dirt back into the ground, but paused. He left briefly, and came back with what he could gather of her baby’s remains, placing it into the grave with her. Then he buried them both.

He found Momoka hidden in the back room of her home, covered in bloodied futons and clutching Fumio in her arms. Their dog Ken lay before them, no doubt in an attempt to protect them. He wondered briefly if she had tried to scream.

He buried Momoka and Fumio, and after a moment of thought, buried Ken too. As he continued gathering villagers, he left three graves empty for the rest of the Kouno household, should he find them.

He did, soon enough. Daisuke-san wasn’t far off from where Takaki Yuuma’s body lay. Daisuke-san was buried next to Momoka. The old woman, Eri, he found in bits and pieces. She was nearest the entrance of the village, her body in several parts. Sasuke gathered them the best he could and buried them all in a grave next to Daisuke-san. When he put her half-crushed head in the grave, he had to stop, heaving into the grass. Nothing came out, but his stomach churned and twisted itself into knots.

Sasuke took a breath, gathered himself, and returned to his task. He buried Yokoyama-san, the woodcarver and the one Eita had chosen to apprentice under. He guessed he’d never get that chair, now. Ohayashi-san and Okamoto-san, two of Jirou’s regular customers, filled another two graves.

He found Wakama-san’s corpse in her home, by the door leading to the garden. She must have been protecting the tomato plant. He placed a tomato in her grave before burying her.

He went back to the alley in which he’d found Eita’s friends. Madoka’s head looked at him accusingly. Sasuke knew he deserved it. He took them one by one, as gentle as he could. Despite his attempts, strings of muscle snapped and body parts would fall to the ground. He came back for them, burying the four children. Madoka, Hironori, Nori, and Aika. He had expected a fifth corpse, but Eita was not among them.

He did a sweep of the village once all but two graves were filled, checking every building. He had yet to bury Jirou’s corpse, but he wasn’t quite ready to go back there yet.

He found two more corpses, hidden away in the back of an unused building at the edge of town. Genji and Anna were huddled in a dark and dusty corner. Genji had a large, fatal gash in his back; Anna’s face was smeared with dirt and dried tears. The old man had his back to the danger, holding the mother in his arms. Even to his last breath, he protected her with everything he had.

Sasuke realized, as the last of Genji’s face was covered with dirt, that he had never told the man thank you for all he’d done. He waited to bury Anna and did another sweep of the village. Mio was nowhere to be found. He apologized to Anna when he buried her.

Gathering and burying all the corpses alone took Sasuke almost five days, working through most of the night and getting little food and little sleep. Most of what he ate came back up again, and when he slept, it was in fits, woken up by nightmares and cold dead eyes.

Jirou was the last corpse, and Sasuke held his breath as he entered the forge, the smell of rotting flesh and dead blood almost overpowering. When he brought Jirou’s body back to the field the evening of the fifth day, he was reminded that all the graves he’d dug had been filled. He set the corpse down and spent the night digging a new one.

All the graves had been dug, filled, and cleaned off by the sixth morning. Sasuke sat before the makeshift graveyard. He felt numb. Empty. He realized that something about the graveyard felt off. He realized the graves were missing gravestones.

He gathered some tools from both the smithy and the wood shop, and then spent a day searching the fields and the forest for large stones. Sasuke then spent the next several days carving out headstones.

They were not well-made, nor were they consistent. Some graves had names; many did not. He tried to put _something_ on them, anything he could remember, but still many of them remained a blank slate. He remembered where to place all the graves with names. The headstones holding only vague descriptions often had to be checked and double checked before they were placed at a grave. When Sasuke was done, he sat before Jirou’s gravestone.

He was tired, ridiculously so, but his body wouldn’t sleep. He read over his work, sloppy characters carved into the stone.

_Uchiha Jirou_

Sasuke felt like he should add something more, but he wasn’t sure what to add.

He had done everything he could. Hopefully they were at peace now. Sasuke asked for forgiveness. No one answered.

* * *

 

Sasuke woke up with dried tears on his face. He didn’t remember crying. His shoulder burned and he still couldn’t move his arm. He probably had an infection, but he couldn’t really bring himself to care.

Sasuke sat up, unmoving for hours. He didn’t really know what to do.

A familiar voice echoed in his mind, repeating the same question that had been going round and round in his head for months.

_“Have you thought about attending Shino Academy?”_

Yes. _Gods_ , yes. He didn’t have any other reason to stay anymore. Yet he hesitated.

_“They were massacred by the Shinigami.”_

Jirou’s voice echoed, and the two opposing voices fought in his head. But Jirou was gone.

Sasuke stood. He should apologize to the old blacksmith for this, but he knew the old man would relent. He never did like it when Sasuke tried to take after his habits, so this shouldn’t be any different.

_“Stop copying me, boy. Create your own weapons.”_

He returned to the village, returned to the empty shop. He was used to hearing the roar of the fire from the forge; hell, he was used to hearing the background noise of shoppers and sellers and old friends meeting up and children playing games between their legs.

He stepped over the mess that had been made of the once orderly shop, picking his way over shattered glass and bent metal to the back table where the first aid kit still sat. He took this chance to change his bandages with the last of the supply. He didn’t check to see if he had an infection. The basket that held the money Jirou had gathered for the day still sat there, untouched. Sasuke took the few coins in the basket. He would find Jirou’s home in a bit and take the money in there as well. It’s not like it was going to be used otherwise.

He gathered the kunai that now littered the ground. There were many, since that was what Sasuke often spent his time making, and he picked out his creations. After a thought, he took a couple of Jirou’s as well, putting it all away in a small pouch tied to the cloth passing for an _obi_. The pouch had been empty for a while, which was part of the reason he had returned in the first place.

Sasuke spent only enough time in the forge to grab the _Itachi no Kinen._

He returned home to grab a small bag; one that Genji had claimed was for carrying the food they bought, though Sasuke had never seen it get used. He put an overripe orange from the kitchen inside.

He returned to Wakama-san’s home. The table where the tomato bowl normally sat had been overturned and destroyed. The bowl was shattered into pieces, and many of the tomatoes that once sat in it were squashed. Sasuke picked up the few intact ones and put them into his bag.

He was going to leave, but the lone tomato plant in the withered garden seemed to watch him.

_“It may seem like the delusions of an old woman, but I like to think that that tomato plant is the spirit of Ichiro watching over me and making sure I have enough to eat.”_

Sasuke bowed to the lonely-looking plant, feeling a little foolish for doing so. “I’m sorry… Ichiro-san. I didn’t protect her.” He took a deep breath, but didn’t rise. “I couldn’t save anyone. I’m sorry.” That didn’t seem like enough. “Please, move on to the next life with Wakama-san. You have nothing to protect here anymore.” Sasuke straightened up and left.

He found Jirou’s home, a tiny shack not far from his shop, and took the money he found in there. There wasn’t much.

Sasuke eventually went into the forest. Memories used to twist the beauty of this forest, and he’d avoided going into it. Now, it was just a forest.

He returned to the graveyard with a large bundle of wildflowers in his arm. It had been harder than he’d first taken the task to be, doing so with one arm, but he’d become versatile in that respect. Sasuke placed a flower on each grave. He placed two on Asuka’s—one for her, one for her baby. He had nine extra flowers, which he placed in front of the entire cemetery.

He stood there awkwardly, in silence, for several minutes. Sasuke came to a decision and bowed.

“…I’m sorry I left some of the gravestones blank. I didn’t know everyone’s name.” He started off, not entirely sure what to say. Perhaps it wasn’t the best thing to say, but he did the best he could. His heart was numb. His mind was blank. “Thank you for taking me into your village and for everything you’ve done for me.” He felt like he should cry. He didn’t. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I’m sorry I won’t visit again.” He could apologize for a lot of other things. He should. He settled on one. “I’m sorry I was too weak to save anyone.”

Sasuke stood, slung his bag over his shoulder, secured his blade at his waist.

“I’m off now,” he said. And then he left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of Fox Track Arc
> 
> So this chapter is kinda short. That’s fine.  
> Sasuke has problems dealing with his emotions.


	7. When Sasuke Can't Believe He Got Stuck With Such a Shitty Zanpakuto

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I'd wait to post this one, and then I figured, why not?  
> In between some of the arcs I'll have little side chapters or chapters bridging a time gap, like this one. 
> 
> Bold dialogue is a zanpakuto speaking outside of their inner realm.

**1951 – 1953**

Sasuke sighed as he stared out the window, bored. The professor droned on and on about the anatomy of hollows, something that Sasuke honestly believed was a waste of time. You had to slice the mask to kill one. Even first years knew this. He had no reason to dismember one, and even with the variety they came in, the logic remained the same.

Students roamed the courtyard outside. There weren’t many, as most were still in class at this hour, and those that were outside seemed to be a bunch of sixth years.

“This is boring, isn’t it?” Sasuke didn’t move his head, only letting his line of sight shift from the window to the redhead sitting to his right. He didn’t really know why, but the guy insisted on talking to him during classes, even though it was detrimental for him. The idiot spent more time sleeping or trying to engage Sasuke in conversation than actually paying attention in class. Really, he was completely incompetent. Sasuke didn’t understand why this guy was trying to become a Shinigami—even less so how he got into the advanced class.

“Well, knowing Mr. Number One, you probably know all this stuff already.”

Sasuke looked back at the window, letting the redhead ramble on.

Honestly, this was all Hinamori’s fault. Just when Sasuke was sure he had scared away all his fangirls, she decided she wanted to be friends with him. He didn’t understand it. She was pleasant enough to be around (she reminded him a little of Hinata, or at least, what he could remember of her), but her two cohorts annoyed the hell out of him.

Well, Kira was nice enough, if not a little timid. No, it was Abarai that truly annoyed him. The guy was insufferable.

When the class was (finally) over, Sasuke grabbed his books, standing and trying to make it to the door as quickly as possible without outright running. He could _feel_ the pineapple head following behind. “Hey, Sasuke, wait up!”

He’d been joined by the other two. Sasuke fought the urge to either groan or run.

“Hey!” Abarai caught up, nearly jogging beside him. Sasuke did his best to pretend he wasn’t there. “We were wondering if you wanted to have lunch with us.”

“No thanks.” Sasuke replied, voice clipped in the struggle to keep his temper under control.

“But I was going to share these with you.” Hinamori’s voice, despairing, and Sasuke chanced a look back as he decided whether or not to take the stairs or just jump the balcony and—were those tomatoes? He slowed down, letting the other two catch up and indeed confirming his suspicion. He hadn’t had tomatoes for almost two years, and his heart and stomach both ached in reminiscence and melancholy.

_“After he died, I couldn’t keep it up, and everything began to wither away. It’s hard, you know, keeping a garden in this place. But for some reason that tomato plant never died, the stubborn little thing.” She smiled, and Sasuke wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen someone so in love before. “It may seem like the delusions of an old woman, but I like to think that that tomato plant is the spirit of Ichiro watching over me and making sure I have enough to eat.”_

Sasuke grimaced at the thought of what he was about to do. “I… suppose I can stay for a few minutes.” Hinamori beamed, her whole face lighting up, and Kira smiled while Abarai laughed in victory. Sasuke winced at the sound.

“Great! We have this really good spot in the courtyard by the east wing. You can meet Rukia!” Sasuke resigned himself to his fate as he was dragged along.

* * *

 

Sasuke reclined against the tree, trying to relax his tense muscles. Hinamori and Kira were setting up a picnic blanket, and Sasuke wondered if this was a normal occurrence or if it was because he joined them.

…He didn’t really want to ask though.

Renji was scanning the surrounding area, no doubt looking for this mysterious ‘Rukia’. If she was anything like the rest of her friends, Sasuke wasn’t really sure he wanted to meet her. But it seemed she was in a different class, so he supposed it couldn’t hurt _too_ much.

It wasn’t long before a short girl ran up to them, short black hair bouncing against her skull. She stumbled to the edge of the blanket, dropping her books onto it and struggling for breath.

“Sorry… I’m late…”

Hinamori just smiled at her. Sasuke didn’t think she was capable of being angry.

“It’s okay!” She handed over one of the sandwiches she’d made, and the new girl—she could only be Rukia—gave her own smile in thanks. It was during this exchange that Rukia seemed to notice Sasuke leaning against a tree a few feet away. Her smile faltered under his cool gaze.

Renji was the first to notice the silent exchange, perking up. “Rukia, this is our classmate, Sasuke. Sasuke, this is Rukia.”

Sasuke nodded in greeting. “Uchiwa Sasuke.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” She seemed somewhat wary, but shook off her inhibitions, and then lunch was in full swing.

Sasuke avoided all attempts they made to get him to eat, only accepting a tomato (or two) when offered. He watched the four, preferring to stay out of the conversation, and they seemed to sense that after the first few tries, leaving him alone after. Rukia reminded him a little of Sakura, when she wasn’t trying to endear herself to him. They were both violent in their temper. Kira was like a male version of Hinata, and Renji was almost as annoying as Naruto. (Almost. No one could ever trump Naruto in that respect, as far as Sasuke was concerned.)

But there was no way in hell that he enjoyed their company. They were only a poor replacement for his childhood classmates, his old Team. Sasuke closed his eyes. (Maybe he could pretend.)

* * *

 

Sasuke should, by all rights, love kido. It was similar to jutsu in many respects, and the only real difference was that instead of hand seals, they recited incantations that Sasuke had memorized within the first month of entering the Academy. (Well, he’d memorized all but the forbidden. He hadn’t been allowed to access those.)

Really, kido should be the one thing that he excelled at above all else.

Yet, somehow, it remained the only class that he had subpar grades in. (With the exception of his attempt at healing kido, but he’d been kicked out of that class pretty fast, so he didn’t think it counted.) It wasn’t that he didn’t understand it or didn’t have the ability or focus or whatever other host of excuses Abarai frequently made. Sasuke understood exactly how it worked, he knew the ins and outs of its use, and he had enough spirit energy and concentration that if he had the ability to, he could give to Abarai to maybe have a chance of passing the class. But it was only his mastery of the incantations and understanding of kido that kept his grade from dropping farther than Abarai’s.

There was something about kido that was different than jutsu, even apart from the hand seals. He tried to perform kido the way he would a jutsu—sometimes he did so merely out of ingrained habit—but there was some fundamental difference between the two that caused every single spell to backfire.

It was this latest attempt that Sasuke deemed the last straw. Healing was one thing, but he needed this class to graduate. Sasuke growled in frustration, ignoring Hinamori’s sympathetic words and Kira’s placating comments and Abarai’s jeering. He stalked right past them, wiping smoke from his eyes and ash from his mouth as he made a beeline to the door.

“Uchiwa! Where do you think you’re going? Class isn’t over yet!” The instructor barked, and Sasuke resisted the urge to roll his eyes, not stopping or turning.

“To clean up,” he snapped, throwing the door closed behind him and not bothering to wait for a response.

He stalked right out of the building and to the dormitories, kicking the door open to the communal bathroom. He scowled into the mirror as he attempted to fix his hair, but it was too tangled for him to do with only one hand.

_“There, all done.”_

Anna would’ve been able to help him.

“ _Dammit!_ ” Sasuke hissed, giving up on his hair, frustration creeping into the edges of his common sense as he gripped the edge of the porcelain sink, his left hand curling into a fist. He ignored the pain continuously shooting up his arm from the action, glare growing even darker in the mirror. From beneath the uniform of the school he could see the scars peeking out from the collar, jagged marks a constant reminder of his weakness. His failures.

Sasuke cursed, and he needed something to serve as an outlet, anything, before this feeling ate away at him from the inside out. He threw his fist into the mirror, the glass shattering easily under his anger-induced strength. He breathed in deep, the anger ebbing away into a frustration that dulled with every breath he released. Blood dripped down his knuckles, trailing in small paths down the cracks in the shattered glass.

With the anger gone, and the pain anchoring him to reality, he could think more clearly. He couldn’t do anything productive just by lashing out blindly. He needed to figure out the cause of his repeated failures. He already knew it had something to do with the relationship between jutsu and kido; he just had to figure out what that was.

Sasuke let his body relax, removing his fist from the mirror, glass falling into the sink. He flexed his hand, ignoring the pain that came from the action. Blood coated his knuckles and traveled in streams between his fingers and down his hand.

He figured the best place to start would be the library. First, however, he’d need to do something about the cuts in his hand. Sasuke released a resigned sigh. Bandages were a pain to attempt when he could only use one hand. He couldn’t imagine how much worse it would be trying to bandage that one hand.

* * *

 

When Sasuke walked into the hall ten minutes after class had started, finally feeling confident in his skill. He’d actually solved his problem hours ago, but by that point he’d been so tired he would be a danger to himself and others if he attempted to perform kido. So sleep had won out as his first priority.

The professor glowered at him. Sasuke figured it was probably because he’d skipped classes yesterday and the day before, not to mention the class he walked out on. “Since you’ve deigned to come to class today, Uchiwa, would you like to do a demonstration for us? Given, of course, that you can manage it.” Sasuke smirked. He was going to wipe that smug sneer right off the bastard’s face.

“Of course.”

The professor faltered at his smooth answer, but the confidence was back quickly enough. “Perform _Hado #4: Byakurai._ ”

Sasuke stepped up to the range without hesitation. He felt confident enough to perform the spell without the incantation, but figured he should do so, just in case. Besides, he didn’t want people to know the extent to which he could utilize kido. The less they knew, the better.

Then again, that sneer was starting to piss him off, and it couldn’t hurt him if it was only one spell. It was just a low-level Hado.

“ _Hado #4: Byakurai._ ” There was a strange sense of satisfaction that came from watching as the spell careened towards a dummy, hitting it straight on, and seeing the professor’s utter look of disbelief.

“How about _Hado #:18?_ ”

Sasuke performed it without issue or incantation, just so he could see that expression on the bastard’s face again.

“Then _Hado #31: Shakkaho_!” The man practically growled, and the students were whispering amongst themselves. They hadn’t been taught that one yet.

Sasuke hadn’t actually performed it, but he didn’t think there’d be any problem as long as he used the incantation.

He breathed in, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. This was the real test, to see if his little theory had worked.

“ _Ye lord! Mask of blood and flesh, all creation, flutter of wings, ye who bears the name of Man! Inferno and pandemonium, the sea barrier surges, march on to the south! Hado #4: Shakkaho!_ ” The red ball of light created a small explosion where the beaten up dummy used to be.

Sasuke smirked, and didn’t bother to even try hiding the smug look on his face. “Does that satisfy you, sensei?”

The man had no response, and Sasuke found he preferred it that way.

* * *

 

Sasuke scowled down at the asauchi. It was supposed to be his _zanpakuto_ , but the stupid blade refused to listen. He wanted to break it—perhaps it was defective, had been his first thought—but the craftsmanship was so flawless he couldn’t bring himself to do it. No matter how much he may want to. (Sasuke cursed Jirou’s violent lectures about respecting the soul of the blade.)

He huffed, sitting down on the grass of a secluded pocket of the courtyard and balancing the sword on his legs. This time, if he couldn’t do this, he’d just get rid of the damn thing. He was doing just fine with the _Itachi no Kinen_ before anyways.

He closed his eyes, though it took him a minute longer to calm down his irked spirit and slip into that realm of silence from meditation.

 

 

 

Sasuke opened his eyes, and the grassy patch and the looming Academy building were gone, replaced by towering trunks and a thick canopy of leaves. He blinked, looking around at the thick forest. There was nothing else, just miles and miles of forest as far as the eye could see.

“Sasuke,” a voice from above him spoke, “I’m glad we finally get to meet.”

Sasuke looked up to his right, calm in knowing that the only other being here would be the one he’d been looking for. The zanpakuto stood on the trunk of a nearby tree in a way that seemed somewhat gravity-defying, but what Sasuke knew only to be a trick of chakra. Or at least, whatever passed as chakra for a blade.

Of course, he was taken aback by the fox grin that was currently spread across a tanned, almost boyish, face, sunny hair a stark contrast to the earthen hues of the forest.

“…Naruto?”

The blond laughed—loud, obnoxious, just the way Sasuke remembered—sitting down on the trunk and crossing his arms. His body was clad all in black in an outfit reminiscent of ANBU, only without the gray flak jacket. A fox mask sat on the side of his head.

“I’m afraid you’re mistaken, Sasuke. I am _Kurayami no Mitsu_ , but feel free to refer to me however you like. If you would prefer to call me Naruto because it makes you feel better, then feel free.” A sudden scowl overtook his features. “But please do not think of me as that brainless idiot. I do know how to hold intelligent conversation.”

Sasuke stood there for a moment, letting everything process, before deciding to go up an adjacent tree. Even if that wasn’t actually Naruto (and no, Sasuke had not just gotten his hopes up for seeing a familiar face), it still irked him to see that face looking down at him.

Sasuke quickly learned that only the slightest remembrance of how to utilize chakra seemed to be effective, and soon found himself sitting across from his zanpakuto with relative ease. It was only slightly disconcerting to be parallel to the ground, a kind of comfort associated with the slight feeling of vertigo.

“Why do you look like Naruto?”

Seriously, it was starting to get on his nerves.

Kurayami—for that seemed to be the best way to refer to him—shrugged. “I suppose it’s because Uzumaki Naruto is an important figure in your life. You two were connected by more than simple bonds, after all.” He snickered. “Of course, it may also be the fact that you seem incredibly irritated by my face, which is both flattering and insulting.”

Sasuke scowled, but from this close, he could see what set Kurayami apart from Naruto. The telltale whisker marks of the jinchuuriki were absent, and Naruto’s defining blue eyes had been replaced by the Sharingan, the pinwheel of the Mangekyo swirling. It was extremely disturbing to see pictured with Naruto’s features. Sasuke sincerely hoped that the blond had never gained them in any shape or form. The idea of someone like him with such power was terrifying. (Imagine if Sasuke lost to him without his edge, when they were no longer on equal terms, when Naruto’s sheer potential plus the sharingan’s capabilities dwarfed anything Sasuke could ever achieve.)

“Is there any way for you to change your face?”

Kurayami looked absolutely appalled at such a suggestion. “I can’t believe you would even ask such a thing. My appearance—this whole world—is a reflection of your inner state.”

Sasuke scoffed at the suggestion. “Can you at least cover your face? I’d prefer the mask than Naruto’s ugly face.”

Kurayami stuck his tongue out at Sasuke in a completely childish—and very Naruto-like—way. Sasuke’s eye twitched. “Nope~!” The zanpakuto wasn’t going to change his mind if he was anything like Naruto (or Sasuke, not that he’d admit it), and thus Sasuke decided to just drop the subject. For now.

“Then can you tell me how this works?” He waved a hand in a sweeping gesture around them.

Kurayami raised a brow. “Didn’t you learn that in your Shinigami academy?”

“They just told us to accept whatever challenges that were given to us. And I don’t imagine this is going to be as easy as just talking to you.” The fox grin on the spirit’s face grew, and Sasuke regretted asking. Alas, it was far too late to take it back now.

“Well, since you’re so curious…” He dug into a pocket, pulling out a very familiar pair of silver bells. “You remember this much, surely?”

“ _No_. There’s no way in hell—”

“Ah,” Kurayami interrupted him, waving a finger in the face of Sasuke’s seething, “No need to be so negative, Sasuke. Your professor told you to accept whatever challenges were given, didn’t they? And this will be a nice walk down memory lane, don’t you agree?” When Sasuke remained silent—he was pissed that the zanpakuto was immune to his usually effective withering glare—Kurayami seemed to take that as the go ahead to continue. “Then allow me to refresh your memory on the rules! All you have to do is take one of these bells from me. Any and all attempts, no matter how unorthodox, are valid, so don’t hold back on me!”

Sasuke jerked back as the spirit seemed to disappear, the telltale flicker of shunpo giving him only a slim warning as the eerie fox mask appeared mere inches from his nose.

“If you don’t,” Kurayami didn’t seem Kurayami anymore, but a darker, more threatening version with the Mangekyo staring straight into his soul, “I might just kill you.”

Sasuke sucked in a startled breath, pushing himself off the tree just as a chokuto sliced through the air, cleaving the branch off the tree. He landed on another branch, seeing a pair of vermillion ribbons in the periphery before jumping to another branch, barely avoiding the chokuto once more.

This cat-and-mouse game continued, and Sasuke had the passing thought that maybe he should feel sorry for the trees before he had to avoid another chance to meet death.

“Stop running, you coward!” The zanpakuto growled, and Sasuke scowled as he flipped over a branch and under another one.

_What am I supposed to do when you’re actively trying to kill me?_ Kakashi had retaliated, fought back when attacked, but he didn’t actively go after them with his full strength like this. And unlike before, Sasuke didn’t have any weapons aside from his body. He didn’t even have any jutsu.

A blade pierced the trunk before him and Sasuke twisted, blade slicing his cheek as he nearly broke his back trying to avoid it without breaking his momentum in the air. He crashed into a branch nonetheless, catching it with his stomach before grabbing an adjacent one nearby and pulling himself up, groaning.

Here, he wasn’t limited by the injuries he’d sustained in the past, but it seemed that didn’t stop him from being injured in this world. He just hoped those injuries didn’t carry over into the physical world. It’d been a long time since he’d faced someone on his level, and if Sasuke were being honest, his skills were rusty. Fighting an armed enemy with only taijutsu gave Sasuke new respect for Rock Lee. This would be infinitely harder if he was against ninjutsu or genjutsu as well.

_“Avenge the fallen and stain the moon with blood!_ ”

Lightning crackled, and Sasuke choked on a scream as his leg exploded in a searing pain, numbness racing up the nerves and sparking up his spine. He landed on a tree branch, legs crumpling beneath him. He slipped off the branch, trying to catch it with his fingers, but they twitched and flinched and didn’t respond to him at all. His fell in a heap on the floor, and Sasuke groaned in pain as he cursed everything through the haze of pain that muddled his thoughts. He hated how _weak_ he was, hated how _easily_ he had been taken down. He hadn’t even been given a chance, hadn’t been able to fight back.

A pair of sandal-clad feet landed before him, and Sasuke glared up at the porcelain fox mask that looked back at him, the pinwheel of the Mangekyo swirling.

“You will never win the game if you can’t even make an effort.” The chokuto raised above his head, almost dramatically, ribbons dancing around themselves, blade sharp and gleaming in sunlight.

The blade came down, and Sasuke, devoid of any other weapons, brought his hands up in an effort he knew would be futile in trying to save his life. He screwed his eyes shut, turned his head away, cursing himself because _how could he fail here_ and—

_Clang._

The sharp sound of metal hitting metal, and Sasuke opened his eyes, seeing a blade in the grip of his right hand. He marveled at the finesse of the blade, straight and deadly sharp, the black hilt devoid of a tsuba, but a vermillion ribbon wrapped around it instead. The ribbon trailed off, waving in the breeze that occasionally rustled the trees, and hanging from the ribbon, before his eyes, was the leaf symbol of Konoha.

It held firm against the identical blade pushing against it, and Sasuke didn’t spare time to process _what the hell had just happened_ as he pushed back, knocking away the opposing blade and slicing at his opponent with a killing intent he hadn’t used in years.

There was a jingle in the air, and a pair of silver bells hit the ground.

“Aw,” Kurayami sighed, pushing the mask away from his face once more, “I lost.” He sounded like his was pouting, almost, but there was a smile on his face that gleamed with pride. Sasuke stared at him, mind working full-time as he tried to figure out what was going on, gazing down at the chokuto still in his hands. Kurayami seemed to sense this, scooping up the bells from the ground. “You got the bells from me, Sasuke. You passed.”

“I… passed?”

Kurayami grinned his fox grin. “Yep! Congratulations, Sasuke. I look forward to working with you.” He held out his hand, probably at an attempt for a peace offering.

Sasuke punched him.

* * *

 

Sasuke gathered his books under his arm as he made his way to his next class. He had advanced several years past Hinamori and the others. He was a Fourth Year now, and while he had breezed through the first couple of years, classes were actually beginning to get challenging, and Sasuke found he enjoyed the difficulty and the later pride he felt when he accomplished something or suddenly understood something he hadn’t before. Of course, just because they were in different classes now didn’t stop Hinamori and the rest of the quartet from trying to befriend him.

He was heading down the hall when he spotted Abarai. Sasuke stopped in his tracks, intent on turning around and finding an alternate route to his next class, but he paused, turning back around to look at the redhead again. He hadn’t yet noticed him, but yet he was just _standing_ there.

Sasuke wasn’t _worried_ exactly, but something didn’t seem right, seeing the normally energetic (to the point of obnoxiousness) Abarai looking so… Sasuke-like. No, Sasuke wasn’t worried. He was disturbed. Taking a deep breath—because dealing with Abarai required him to be on high alert at all times—Sasuke made his way down the hall in the pineapple head’s direction.

He stopped five feet away, a safe enough distance but still within the range of a conversation, but still Abarai made no indication of noticing him. Sasuke was starting to feel annoyed by his attitude.

“ _Abarai_ ,” he snapped, and Renji looked up. Sasuke couldn’t help the surprise that crossed his face as a pained expression flitted across Renji’s, and he nearly found himself asking _what’s wrong_. Then he remembered that was common courtesy. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Abarai looked as if he wanted to talk, as if he was going to say something, but he clamped his mouth shut, shook his head, and rushed past Sasuke and out of sight. Sasuke didn’t bother stopping him.

_The one time I show him some semblance of conern and this is what I get._

Later, as he was walking down the stairs, he glanced out the window and saw Rukia walking beside a tall man with long black hair and a regal gait. From the way he held himself alone, Sasuke knew it to be a noble, but the real question he held was what Rukia was doing with that man. They looked to be leaving the school grounds.

Sasuke didn’t know a lot about them, but he could easily make a few guesses as to what was going on. Sasuke shook his head in exasperation. Someday, Abarai would stop being an idiot, he was sure. Mostly.

* * *

 

Another week passed. Rukia had left the school permanently, and Abarai was still sulking. Hinamori and Kira were trying to cheer him up, though it didn’t seem to be working. Yet every time they stopped Sasuke in the halls or the courtyards, he was with them, casting a gloomy presence on everything. It pissed Sasuke off to no end.

He’d been in a foul mood all week because of it, and of course, with his luck, the Fourth Years and the First Years had a joint zanjutsu lesson. The teacher was a bit of a pushover compared to the kido professor, and Sasuke didn’t spare any effort in giving the man his psychological wrath for this.

So naturally, the man had enough sense to realize what the source of Sasuke’s wrath was, and figured it better he take it out on that than on his professor. Sasuke forgave the man his unintended misgivings when a rather despondent Abarai stepped up to the mat, a bokken in hand. He gripped his own, eyes narrowed, regretting only that he could not hold an actual blade. Then again, perhaps the physical act of beating would be more effective than the precise movements of slicing open flesh.

Abarai could barely react as Sasuke leapt forward scarcely a moment after the instructor said “begin”. He pushed him back with relentless blows, before deciding he’d had enough of attempting to keep up the ruse of trying to have an actual match and coming down hard on Renji’s shoulder. After using only his right for so long in most tasks, his right arm was pretty strong. Even for a one-handed blow, Sasuke wouldn’t be surprised if he’d dislocated the shoulder.

Abarai practically crumpled, dropping his bokken in favor of clutching at his shoulder. Life sparked in his eyes as he glowered at Sasuke. “What the hell, man?!”

Sasuke smirked. Much better.

“You were so pathetic, getting beaten up by someone with one arm, that I couldn’t help myself. Don’t go easy on me just because I’m disabled, or I’ll kick your ass.” Sasuke hated that term— _disabled, invalid,_ they made him sound so _weak_ and he despised it—but they got the desired reaction, and Abarai shook off the pain, grimacing as he picked up his weapon.

Sasuke let him attack first this time.

It wasn’t hard to stop the redhead’s advances, but Sasuke decided to let him think he was getting better before he delivered another lesson on reality. He spent an entire night once every week training with Kurayami, and because of it his instincts were as sharp as they’d been when he was still an active shinobi.

The opposing bokken got a little too close to his left side, and Sasuke deigned that enough as he struck in one swift movement, bringing wood down on the same shoulder, causing Renji to drop his blade again, before he struck the side of his leg, bringing the First Year down to his knee.

Renji glared up at him, teeth clenched from a mix of anger and pain.

**“Don’t you think you’re being a little harsh on him? He just lost his girlfriend to the very same nobles you hate.”** Kurayami’s voice filtered through his mind, and despite his words, he didn’t sound particularly concerned over Abarai’s well-being.

Sasuke debated responding, but he was still partially fueled by annoyance. _‘His attitude right now pisses me off.’_

**“Aww, Sasuke, you’re worried for him~! How sweet.”**

_‘Shut up, Kurayami.’_

He could feel the smug look on the zanpakuto’s face before being distracted as Renji tried to lunge at his feet in an attempt to bring him down a level.

Someone amongst the many onlookers of their classmates jeered, and Sasuke smirked as he jumped back lightly.

_‘What should I go for next?’_

**“Ooh, go for the hands. Naughty children get a slap on the wrist.”**

* * *

 

Despite the chattering groups of friends and family, Sasuke felt no particular joy or elation as he stared down at the paper in his hands.  It had only been 2 ½ years. (A feat accomplished so far only by two others, though Sasuke doubted he’d be the last to do so.) He’d graduated at the top of his class—or rather, the 2062nd Class of Shino Academy. Technically, his class was still the 2066th along with Abarai, Hinamori, and Kira. 

The others didn’t come to congratulate him. In the process of giving Abarai a lesson on life, he’d apparently gone too far. Abarai actively disliked him and Kira avoided him and gave him looks when they passed each other in the hall. Hinamori still seemed to look upon him with more than negativity, but she too tended to avoid him. Still, he could tell by the way she looked at him that she was waiting for him to come up and apologize, to give his reasons and regrets, waiting to open her arms back up for another attempt at friendship.

But Sasuke ignored it, and he ignored the small part of his mind that had actually entertained the thought of having another meaningful relationship.

_“If you want to travel, Sasuke, travel. If you want to leave and never come back, then leave. But I’m not going to let you go out and get yourself killed because you don’t know how to take care of yourself.” He looked back for a brief moment, held his gaze, and Sasuke looked away, feeling guilty for some unfathomable reason. “I know you don’t think of us as a family, but you’re family to us. I just hope that you find the people that mean family to you.”_

For a moment, looking up, Sasuke thought he saw Hinamori’s sad brown doe eyes in the crowd. But he was leaving this place and entering a new chapter, gaining a new purpose. He turned and walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bokken is just a wooden practice sword. I own one. It's pretty great. :3
> 
> Sasuke's Zanpakuto:
> 
> Kurayami no Mitsu  
> -Roughly translated as "The Dark, Dark Light"  
> -Release Incantation: "Avenge the fallen and stain the moon with blood"


	8. Both Shibas are Annoying and Sasuke Can Never Escape the Fangirls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Begin The Invasion Arc

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I'm still alive and working on this! :D I cannot promise when the next chapter will be, only that at this point in time I am writing it.

**1953 – 1967**

He was supposed to be assigned to the Tenth Division, his first post in the Gotei 13. Sasuke took a deep breath, closing his eyes and counting to ten. He was seated alone in a small room, awaiting his meeting with his new Captain.

The door flew open and Sasuke twitched in surprise, straightening up and bowing. “It’s an honor to be here Captain! I’ll do my best, so please show me the ropes!”

“Sasuke?” He looked up sharply, to see a smug-looking mug and spiky black hair. His eye twitched.

 _This is your superior_ repeated in a mantra in his head as he struggled to maintain his composure.

Shiba Isshin laughed upon seeing his face. “Well, who would’ve guessed you’d be assigned to the Tenth?! It’s good to see you again!” He clapped Sasuke on the back, and Sasuke couldn’t quite suppress the growl of annoyance that escaped his throat. Despite the feigned surprise, he was positive the man had known _exactly_ where he’d be assigned. (Bastard probably had a hand in it, too.)

“Yeah, a _real_ pleasure.” He hissed, but the idiot— _Shiba,_ Sasuke reminded himself, _Captain Shiba_ —either didn’t notice his hostility or didn’t care, looping an arm around his new subordinate’s shoulders and dragging him out of the room and down the hall.

Captain Shiba continued his jovial laughter, and Sasuke couldn’t quite break the grip on him as he was pulled into an office, the door closing behind him. As soon as they were in the room, the Captain let him go, gesturing for Sasuke to sit down on one of the couches.

Sasuke sat, the Captain sitting across from him, an almost uncharacteristically serious expression on his face.

“I heard about what happened in Fox Track.” Sasuke looked away from his eyes, glaring at the floor.

“Everyone has.”

Captain Shiba sighed. “I want to know what really happened. Sasuke, you’re the only one who knows. If you just want to talk about it—”

“ _No.”_ Sasuke hissed, interrupting him. He continued glaring at the floor. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“But Sasuke—”

Sasuke’s head snapped up, and Shiba stopped talking, staring into the heated glare. “ _I don’t want to talk about it_.”

Captain Shiba frowned, but seemed to accept it nonetheless. “Alright, but if you ever change your mind, I’ll be here, okay?” Sasuke looked away again, feeling just a little petty; his new uniform was warm, with too many layers. “I just want to know one thing,” Sasuke stiffened, “Not as your superior, but as a man mourning a friend.” He was silent, and waited to speak again until Sasuke met his gaze. “What happened to Jirou?”

_A choked sob escaped, and Sasuke looked up, saw Jirou looking back at him._

_He crawled towards the man with his right hand, knees shuffling through the growing pool of blood as Sasuke tried to reach him. The wound in Jirou’s shoulder was impossible for him to be able to wrap up. The flesh around his shoulder and collarbone, practically up into his neck, had all been eaten away. Jirou wheezed, turning his head to watch as Sasuke stood there, right hand hovering over the blacksmith’s wound, trembling._

_“Just… Just hold on. I-I’m sure help is coming. Y-you’ll be okay. J-just…” Sasuke rambled, gasping for air that didn’t seem to come. His vision was fuzzy, but at the same time he could see in crystal clarity._

_Jirou’s hand brushed his, the most action he could perform with it, but Sasuke got the message, looking up. Jirou shook his head, slowly, with only the barest movement. Sasuke’s mouth opened and closed in desperation, trying to find something to say. The focus left Jirou’s eyes. Eventually, so did the light._

Sasuke swallowed, didn’t want to say anything. But he knew he deserved at least that much.

“He died instantly. He wasn’t in pain.”

Isshin smiled, sad and like he knew Sasuke was lying, and it made him look like an entirely different person. Suddenly, Sasuke could see the reason this man was a Captain. He was reminded of a laidback, chronically late shinobi who would protect his comrades with his life, and the Uchiha felt a rush of shame pass through him. A new kind of respect for his Captain formed in that moment.

“I see. Thank you.” He stood, stretched, and grinned. “Well, let’s go. I still have to give you a tour, and you haven’t met your new Vice-captain yet!” He was back to grinning and obnoxiousness, but Sasuke found that perhaps it wasn’t as annoying as he used to think it was.

 

* * *

 

Sasuke didn’t want to admit he was hesitating, but it had already been several months—nearly a year now—and he was really sick of other people looking down on him. Bastards thought he was weak just because he could only use one arm.

“ **Just do it already. This is starting to get annoying.** ”

‘ _Like you don’t remember every healer we’ve met being more capable of dismembering someone than healing them.’_

“ **…Touché.** ”

He knocked on the door, and it swung open mere seconds after, a smiling woman with long black hair looking down at him.

“Yes? Is there something I can help you with?” Sasuke had an absurd moment of debating whether or not he should just leave. He berated himself for such a thought.

“Can you take a look at my arm?” She looked bemused by his request, but gestured for him to come inside. Her Vice-captain was there, bowing politely as Sasuke followed the Captain of the Fourth Division inside.

She gestured for him to have a seat, and he did, hesitating for a moment. The Captain seemed to understand.

“Isane, would you go check on our other patients?” She smiled at the tall woman, who jumped at the sudden attention.

“Oh, of course!” She bowed once more before hurrying out, and the Captain turned back to him.

Sasuke grimaced, but pulled off the left sleeve of his shihakusho.

Scars created jagged marks all across his shoulder, arm, and collarbone. Two separate bite marks from two separate hollows, overlapping one another. Sasuke twitched his fingers, curled them, winced and let them fall limp at his side once more.

Captain Unohana Retsu frowned upon seeing his arm, and Sasuke got the feeling that she didn’t do that often. He didn’t quite like the concerned look there. He let her prod and poke and perform Kaido, wincing at some points and clenching his right fist at others. He did his best to follow her orders without complaint when she wanted him to move his arm this way, angle his body that way. He knew from experience that healers were terrifying in their own way (Sakura had taught him the hard way), and he doubted she would be any different.

Finally, she stepped back and permitted him to be fully clothed once more.

“From the looks of it, your rotator cuff was severely damaged. I can help with any residual or phantom pains you may feel, and with some physical therapy, you should be able to regain some movement in your arm, but I’m afraid there isn’t much I can do. The initial injuries have long since healed.” Sasuke sighed. He had expected about as much.

“Thanks anyway,” he muttered, readjusting his shihakusho and standing.

**“Some movement is better than none. Are we training tonight?”**

_‘If I can get that paperwork done.’_

**“Ugh.”**

 

* * *

 

“I’m going to miss you, Sasuke!” The former shinobi ducked around his Captain’s snotty face, the man’s failed sneak attack landing him in the yet unrepaired hole in the floor from the last time he’d (successfully) tried to catch his subordinate off-guard.

“I’ll put your face through the floor again.” Sasuke hissed, glowering at the man. “And I’m just moving to another Division.”

Captain Shiba looked up at him with tears streaming down his face. Sasuke watched in disgust as the older man bawled, wiping at his eyes. “I know! My little boy’s growing up so fast!” He turned to Vice-Captain Matsumoto for comfort, but as his hands started heading a little too low, a foot met his face, keeping his grubby hands at a firm distance.

“I’m not your ‘little boy’.” Sasuke growled.

**“I don’t know… He coddles you like you’re his own child. Are you sure you’re not a Shiba?”**

_‘Positive.’_

“I know you’ve been in your rebellious stage, but don’t worry, you’ll always be my son!”

Sasuke helped the Vice-Captain send Captain Shiba out the window. Matsumoto huffed, hands on her hips, but she turned to Sasuke with a smile. “We’ll miss you around here.”

He bowed lightly to her, moving towards the door. _‘They act like I’m retiring.’_

 **“You are retiring,”** Kurayami snickered, **“From Captain’s Babysitter.”**

…He had a point, unfortunately.

“If you need me to kick his ass back in line, just ask.”

That had his Vice-Captain laughing, and she ruffled his hair, despite his chagrin. Sasuke scowled, but let her since it would be the last time. (At least she hadn’t tried to hug him.)

He bowed once more before escaping towards the direction of the Thirteenth Division, especially before Captain Shiba found his way back to the office. Most Shinigami tended to stay out of his way, and the walk was quiet.

Adjusting the small bag slung over his shoulder, Sasuke let his mind wander a little. From what little he knew of Captain Ukitake, the Thirteenth would be much calmer, and definitely much quieter. It would suit him more, and Vice-Captain Kaien was well-respected. (He wouldn’t admit that maybe he’d miss the rowdy Tenth a little.)

 

* * *

 

Sasuke wasn’t particularly bothered by the rumors flying around about him. They’d always been around, but recently the rumor mill had exploded. Sasuke wasn’t particularly worried—he had no doubt it was because of his promotion—but both Captain Ukitake and Vice-Captain Kaien put entirely too much effort into dealing with it. Rumors would run their course.

He nodded as he passed some Division members, who bowed lightly in return. Ukitake was sitting at the edge of the lake in Ugendō, throwing what looked to be bread crumbs into the water. Carp hovered about near the surface greedily.

“Captain Ukitake,” Sasuke bowed when the man turned to him with a smile, “You asked to see me?”

The man gestured for him to sit, and he did, setting the _Itachi no Kinen_ and _Kurayami no Mitsu_ beside him. “It’s a wonderful day today, isn’t it?” Sasuke nodded, knowing by now that it was best to just let the man run with his musings. “How is your arm, Sasuke? Has Captain Unohana’s therapies helped?”

Sasuke glanced down at his left arm, the entirety of which was wrapped in bandages. It was one of her so-called ‘therapies’, along with daily stretches and massaging his shoulder regularly. He had essentially become her perpetual patient in her quest to fix his arm, much to his chagrin. What made it worse was that it was working. “The pain has lessened significantly.”

**“That woman is terrifying. I’d say to make a run for it now, but she’d hunt you to the ends of the earth. I daresay she’s worse than Sakura.”**

He also found it best to ignore Kurayami’s comments. (Best not to encourage him.)

“That’s good to hear.” That perpetual smile on the Captain’s face faltered a little as he continued. “Sasuke, I know there’ve been a lot of rumors lately, especially concerning your promotion…”

**“Now we’re getting somewhere.”**

“…But I just want to make sure you know not to listen to those. You were promoted entirely on your own merit, and Miyako wholeheartedly approved.”

Sasuke sighed, and when Captain Ukitake paused to take a breath, he interjected before the man could continue. “I’m aware.”

The older man paused, turned to him, and blinked in surprise before his face melted back into the characteristic easygoing smile. “Good. That’s good.”

They sat in a peaceful silence for a while after, something Sasuke relished in. Contrary to his initial beliefs, with Vice-Captain Shiba around, the Thirteenth Division was just as rowdy as the Tenth.

**“At least you didn’t get assigned to the Eleventh.”**

Sasuke didn’t need to answer that one. (It was pretty obvious to both parties that he agreed.)

 

* * *

 

Kurayami laughed as he flipped over Sasuke’s head, landing silently behind him to dangle the bells tauntingly before spinning out of the way of another strike and escaping. Sasuke growled in annoyance before giving chase.

If Kurayami looked like Naruto, he fought like Kakashi. And it annoyed the hell out of him.

He slashed out with his blade, only for the zanpakuto to jump over (it was absurdly graceful), pushing off the flat side of the blade and turning the maneuver into a handspring.

“Will you be _serious for once_?” Groused Sasuke; his patience was reaching its already frayed end.

A part of him regretted it, however as the air around Kurayami no Mitsu changed. “You want serious?” Kurayami slid the fox mask over his face, sharingan eyes swirling. “I’ll give you serious.”

He drew the ice-white blade at his side, and without warning, launched himself at Sasuke, who barely had the time to raise his own blade in defense. Gone was the playful Kurayami; this was an entirely different beast, one who showed no mercy to friend and foe alike.

Sasuke was reminded of one of his fuzzy memories of his brother—one of the earlier confrontations, with cold red eyes and no mercy, not even for his little brother. The wrath of a lifetime ago arose once more in his blood, as if the emotion itself were attached to the memory, and Sasuke returned the attack, pushing the zanpakuto back and slashing upward with a sort of calm ferocity.

Despite the mask hiding his face, Sasuke swore the bastard was smirking.

They met again with a brief clash of blade on blade, and Sasuke deflected the blade that suddenly changed angles, barely redirecting it past his face. The blade managed to nick his cheek, white tip stained with blood as Sasuke pushed the blade fully aside and jumped out of the way.

Kurayami no Mitsu was merciless, coming in for another attack as soon as he regained his stance, and Sasuke was barely able to block once more. The zanpakuto wasn’t deterred, and the Uchiha yelped as his feet were swept out from under him. He landed hard on his back, groaning, as the edge of a sword rested lightly against his throat.

The fox mask was removed to indeed reveal a smug smirk, and Kurayami let it evolve into a shit-eating grin. “I win.”

Sasuke glowered at Naruto’s face, (and no he was so not sulking about this) pushing the blade aside with the back of his hand as he pushed himself up. But regardless of how he felt about the outcome, there was something he had to clear up.

“What the hell was that?”

Kurayami cocked his head to the side, eyebrow raised. “What was what? My awesome moves?”

“When you put that mask on,” he waved his hand, gesturing vaguely to the fox mask currently sitting atop blond locks, “it’s like you were a completely different person.”

Kurayami’s second brow rose to join the first. “You know you sound crazy, right?” He rocked forward on his heels to push his face into Sasuke’s personal space, one hand coming to rest against his forehead. “You _sure_ you’re okay? I didn’t hit you too hard or anything?”

Sasuke growled, knocking the hand away with enough force to put the blond off balance before stalking away. “I’m fine,” he spat out, turning to follow the dirt path.

Over time, as more of his memories started to slowly filter back into the empty slots of his lifetime, his inner world had begun to slowly change shape. At first, it had been just the forest with the large trees. Then it had been the path. He’d once spent hours following it to no particular destination. It was frustrating the first time, but after that it became more of a relaxation, something he could do mindlessly while processing his thoughts. And then, one day, he came across a building.

That was where he headed now, following the path until it led him to the Uchiha Compound—or at least, a replica of it. It was incomplete, only a small area of the once expansive compound actually present. Everything else faded back into forest.

It was here that Sasuke stepped up to the door of his childhood home, sliding the door open and tromping inside. It would’ve been painful (and it was, the first time he entered it), had it not been for the subtle differences. There were some personal touches—the picture frames, the mirrors, the vase of flowers—that were missing from the home entirely. When he picked up scrolls to read, he found them all devoid of writing. Everything was pristine, systematically laid out; there was a distinct lack of the feeling of having been lived in. It helped, however, in separating it from the real thing. It was those subtle differences that helped Sasuke distance himself from any lingering emotions about going in and out of his childhood home.

Kurayami, not having much else to do, followed him inside. The zanpakuto took brief pleasure in turning into one of the other rooms to mess with who-knew-what as Sasuke continued on to the kitchen. In there was yet another difference; there was no food in the fridge, no water that ran from the sinks. But his parents were shinobi and so was he, and Sasuke grabbed a hidden kunai, flipping it between his fingers in thought before just wandering throughout the home aimlessly. It was that action that replaced the wanderings on the dirt paths, Sasuke absentmindedly flipping the kunai around as his feet decided where to take him.

Sometimes he ended up in his bedroom, sometimes his parents’. Other times it was empty rooms devoid of anything, and every once in a while even out into a semblance of garden. Only once did he ever end up in Itachi’s room.

It was this, however, that had him end up in a room empty of anything except for four pillows and Kurayami no Mitsu sitting on one. He looked as if he were in meditation, body lax and back straight, breathing even. The fox mask hid his face, but at his entrance sharingan eyes slid open, watching him.

The zanpakuto didn’t bother saying anything, and after a moment, his eyes slid closed once more. Sasuke just watched (somewhat warily) for several moments before sitting down across from him, setting himself in the same seated position.

“If that idiot is Kurayami, you’re Mitsu.” His eyes opened once more, observing—no, _analyzing_ —Sasuke, and it took that to realize he’d said it aloud. Well, it wasn’t like he had much to lose. “You’re two different entities. Like the Kyuubi when he took over Naruto.”

“Not quite.” Sasuke blinked. He hadn’t actually expected him to respond. “We are one person: Kurayami no Mitsu. I would not consider a distinction between us. Do you compare your personality as a child and your personality as an adolescent and declare them two different people?” Silence appeared to be enough of an answer, and Mitsu continued. “We are simply two different sides of one person. Two extremes of one soul.”

With that, Mitsu returned to his meditation. Sasuke attempted to join him, but his mind decided to peruse over those words instead.

 

* * *

 

Sasuke grunted as he opened his eyes, once more greeted by the white walls of Seireitei. Despite not being physically injured, he still felt the aches and sores from only a few minutes ago. Closing his eyes once more, he took a deep breath, pondering on whether or not he should take a nap. It was a nice day out, he was in a shady spot, and there wasn’t anything he needed to do…

“Uchiwa-senpai!!”

He didn’t bother to hide his scowl as he sat up, watching the girl as she came his direction in a flat out sprint. Ojima Kanon was one of the lower-ranking members of the Thirteenth Division, and for some reason she had developed a fixation on him since he’d been promoted to Third Seat.

**“Your fangirl has arrived.”**

She stumbled to a stop, barely avoiding falling on him, bowing deep in greeting before straightening up just as quickly, her face flushed from previous exercise (and possibly for other reasons).

“Uchiwa-senpai, good morning!” Her voice was sweet, but far too loud, and he closed his eyes in irritation. This was worse than Sakura.

**“Speaking of Sakura, the ribbon of the day is white with red and pink stripes.”**

Kurayami was right.

‘ _How many ribbons are we at now?’_

**“This one makes 134.”**

It was an ongoing bet that Kurayami had made to make her presence more bearable. She wore a different ribbon each day; Sasuke guessed she had one for every day of the year, while Kurayami theorized that she never wore the same one twice. Despite the irritation she caused him, he made sure to at least exchange greetings with Ojima every day to catch a glimpse of the ribbon—he had a new jutsu on the line after all.

**“They’re not called jutsu.”**

_‘Same thing.’_

**“They’re _nooot._ ”**

Sasuke ignored his zanpakuto’s protests in favor of casually moving away when Ojima tried to touch his hair.

She was pouting. “Are you listening to me, senpai?”

He sighed internally, “Yes.”

**“Liar.”**

“What’re you two lovebirds doing out here all alone?” Sasuke sighed, watching Vice-Captain Shiba stroll up to them, Rukia following behind him like an obedient puppy. At his words, both the women rounded on him.

“L-Lovebirds?!”

“N-N-No, i-it’s not like that! Uchiwa-senpai and I are just—” Ojima went an interestingly bright shade of red, hands waving around as she attempted to explain. Sasuke didn’t even bother doing anything; Vice-Captain Shiba did this on a regular basis, and it never failed to get a reaction out of her. He stopped reacting after the second time. (By this point, he was resigned to his fate.)

Shiba Kaien laughed. “Kidding. Kanon, Miyako wants to talk to you.”

The brunette beamed at the mention of the man’s wife. If there was one person she bugged more than Sasuke, it was Miyako. “I’m heading over now!”

She bowed frantically to both Sasuke and Vice-Captain Shiba before taking off at a sprint. Kaien chuckled at her take off.

“She really adores you, you know.” Sasuke sighed; he didn’t bother answering, as the Vice-Captain knew exactly how he felt about the whole situation. “Maybe if you didn’t go out of your way to talk to her, you might catch a break?”

“…I have a bet.” It felt like a terrible admission, especially to that man of all people.

“Ooh, mind if I get in on it?” Sasuke’s glower was enough of an answer.

 

* * *

 

When he’d received a summons from his Captain, Sasuke had been expecting a mission or an unruly subordinate. This, on the other hand….

“Happy birthday!!”

The entire Division seemed present, including quite a few members of the Tenth and other Vice-Captains. There were a few other odd faces as well, including Hinamori and Kira. (Abarai wasn’t present.)

**“How the hell did they even find out?”**

_‘I don’t want to know.’_

Vice-Captain Kaien and Captain Shiba boxed him in, each slinging an arm over his shoulders and getting entirely too close for comfort. “Are you surprised?” Captain Shiba grinned, and while Sasuke hadn’t seen him for a while, his mug was still as obnoxious as ever. Sasuke elbowed him hard in the gut, causing the man to grunt and double over. Kaien’s arm lost its iron grip around his neck, and Sasuke ducked out from under him.

The party was already well underway, apparently, as he could spot more than a few people with flushed faces and sloshing drinks in hand.

“Sasuke!” Sighing, he turned to greet Hinamori with a nod as she ran up to him, practically dragging Kira behind her. “Happy birthday! It’s been such a long time, but you look like you’re doing well!” He inclined his head at Kira’s much meeker greeting as Hinamori barreled on. “When I heard about your birthday, I wasn’t sure what to get you, but then I saw these!” She produces a basket with an absurd red ribbon tied to the handle. It’s filled to the brim with fresh, ripe tomatoes. “These are your favorite food, right?”

Kurayami whistled. **“ _Damn_ , she’s good.”**

Sasuke took the basket from her, almost mesmerized, picking one off the top and looking it over for several moments. He hadn’t eaten fruit—much less tomatoes—in months, too busy training or being sent on missions. “…Thank you.” Hinamori beamed as he placed the fruit back into the basket gingerly.

“You’re welcome!”

She looked like she wanted to say more, but Ojima appeared beside her, squeezing between two bodies in order to get to them. “Uchiwa-senpai! Happy birthday!”

**“Out of the frying pan and into the fire.”**

‘ _Shut up.’_

It was a red ribbon this time, and instead of the usual ponytail, a braid was slung over her shoulder. **“198.”** She locked onto his presence like a honing missile, and Sasuke sighed inwardly, nodding in greeting to her. She was practically bouncing around, and the moment he acknowledged her presence, inane questions and comments burst forth from her mouth, not leaving enough space between for him to respond or answer.

This lasted for exactly thirty seconds before Sasuke placed a firm hand atop her head, effectively holding her in place. Ojima beamed at him, looking in awe that he was touching her. This time, Sasuke didn’t hide the exhalation of breath that followed his exasperation.

“Ojima,” he paused, eyebrow twitching at the obvious adoration in her eyes, “Have you been drinking?”

“I’m afraid so,” a new voice replied instead, and both Hinamori and Kira jumped, turning and bowing lightly as Captain Ukitake joined them, flanked by Kaien’s wife. Miyako smiled genially, and Sasuke removed his hand from the girl’s head as the Fourth Seat gently steered her away. “I’ll take her back to her room. Happy birthday, Sasuke,” she waved before disappearing into the crowd with Ojima.

A few minutes later, there was a momentary shouting above the din consisting of both Ojima’s and Vice-Captain Kaien’s voices. Those two got along absurdly well.

While the others still crowded around him were momentarily distracted by the brief commotion, Sasuke escaped the room, finding a nice perch in the branch of a tree in a garden just outside the building. He jumped up with ease, one hand still holding the basket of tomatoes, which he placed in his lap as he got comfortable, back resting against the tree.

The moon was bright that night.

“Beautiful night tonight, isn’t it?”

The former shinobi only grunted in response, and his Vice-Captain barked out a laugh.

“You know, it’s rude to skip out on a party that everyone spent all this time preparing for you.”

Sasuke let out a sound like a scoff. “No one told them to do it. They went out of their way to find an excuse to party.”

“Touché.”

Kaien was quiet for a while after that, seeming content to sit under the tree and watch the stars, and Sasuke was more than fine with letting him as he picked up another tomato. (Hinamori had an eye for good ones.)

“Hey,” let it never be said that the Vice-Captain wasn’t gruff, “give me one, will you?”

Sasuke scowled and growled, “Get your own,” even as he tossed one down.

They didn’t say another word to each other for the rest of the night, the party showing no signs of winding down behind them. Sasuke took a deep breath, trying to enjoy the silence while he had it.

 

When the moon hung low in the sky and the majority of the party-goers were quieting down, Sasuke stood, hopped down, and stretched. “Thanks,” he muttered, and left. Nothing more needed to be said.

 

* * *

 

“You’ve never been to the World of the Living, have you?” He shrugged.

“Once, but briefly.”

Captain Ukitake smiled the way he usually did. “Then be sure to take this chance to explore a little.”

Sasuke glanced over the file as it was handed to him, memorizing everything in the rather small file as he read. He glanced back up to his Captain skeptically.

“How long is this mission supposed to last?”

“One year.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kaido is another name for Healing Kido.
> 
> I know these have a lot of skipping around right now, but that’s mainly so you can get an idea of Sasuke’s experience through the years. It shouldn’t skip around quite as much once we hit the main storyline.


	9. Shinigami Like Two Things: Parties and Disappearing Acts

**1968 – 2 August, 2001**

Sasuke took a deep breath, relishing in the reishi-rich air of Soul Society. There was something about the World of the Living that caused an itch beneath his skin, made him uncomfortable in his own bones. He rubbed at his shoulder; the rain he’d left behind made it ache.

He entered Seireitei, fully expecting to be bombarded immediately by Ojima and his Vice-Captain (and possibly Hinamori, if her Captain hadn’t pushed her into other duties), so when silence greeted him, Sasuke felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. It was unusually quiet.

_It was unusually quiet at this time of day. Normally, the clamor of people closing up shop and heading home for the night could be heard, along with the noise the children made as they were eventually herded inside._

The area he was in was deserted, empty.

_He had barely stepped within the boundaries of the village when an overpowering metallic smell assaulted his senses—_

Sasuke doubled forward, left hand clapping over his nose and mouth to block out the smell, right hand already reaching for the _Itachi no Kinen_.

_There was something wrong._

He brought his senses under control, breathing shallowly through his mouth as his left hand moved slowly to avoid the already prevalent pain in his shoulder. Something (or was it someone) was tickling at the edges of his mind, but he shook off the feeling (it was still present, struggling against his mental wards). It was something to peruse over later, when he wasn’t in immediate danger.

**_(But was there any danger?)_ **

_—he started running, one step away from sprinting. The village was silent, eerily so—_

Someone’s voice, strange and garbled and far away, reached his ears, but it was clouded by the fog, and he unsheathed the _Itachi no Kinen_.

_There was so much blood—_

_—It was a hollow, but at the same time it wasn’t like any hollow he had ever seen._

That voice again, strange and foggy and all Sasuke could think of was—

_Sasuke tried to be completely silent, raised his blade, and the hollow turned around to face him. Where the mask had been broken he could see an eye—a human eye that stared at him, assessing, waiting._

He whirled around, because this time he was prepared, this time he wouldn’t be afraid.

_The hollow did something that he’d thought was impossible for a skull. It grinned._

Sasuke sliced down at the creature behind him, but it blocked his blade with a long, extended claw. He wasn’t deterred, and pulled a kunai out from the hidden pocket of his shihakusho, moving to stab its mask with his other hand while it was occupied.

A hand grabbed his wrist, immobilizing him, and Sasuke inhaled sharply, but he couldn’t panic _couldn’t panic couldn’t panic—_

**“ _Sasuke!!_ ”**

Sasuke blinked, and suddenly the world before him was clear again. He was breathing too hard to be considered okay, and warm brown eyes were staring at him concernedly. The voice spoke again, but this time it was clear, recognizable.

“Sasuke, it’s me, Isshin. Shiba Isshin. Do you understand?” Sasuke took a deep breath, then another (he was hyperventilating), and managed a shallow nod. The world around him was revolving a little too fast. Captain Shiba managed a weak smile, cautiously releasing his grip on Sasuke’s wrist and stepping back. He didn’t sheathe his zanpakuto.

Sasuke blinked, trying to understand what the man was so wary of, and it was then that he noticed several others present, including Vice-Captain Matsumoto, Third Seat Hitsugaya, and Captains Kyoraku and Ukitake. All of them had their zanpakuto in hand, raised in his direction. His eyes widened at the sight, his own blade dropping to the sand, held only loosely in his grip. He turned his gaze back to Captain Shiba, trying to understand what was going on.

The Captain of the Tenth must have sensed something, for he sheathed _Engetsu_ and moved toward the Third Seat, gently releasing Sasuke’s iron grip on the kunai in his left hand. It was only upon relaxing his fist that he realized how much pain he was in.

Isshin spoke softly, quietly, as if he were a scared child. Sasuke clenched his teeth both against the pain and the feeling of pity. “You had an episode, Sasuke. A flashback. It’s okay now, but I’m going to have to ask you to put away your weapons.” He complied with mechanical movements, sheathing the _Itachi no Kinen_ and taking the kunai back from Captain Shiba to put back in the hidden pocket. He twitched his fingers, but it sent waves of pain up his left arm, and he gripped his shoulder. Fingers dug into the scarred flesh beneath his clothes.

Captain Ukitake joined them at that point, placing a reassuring hand on Sasuke’s shoulder, only to remove it quickly at the tension that arose in response to his touch. “Sasuke, why don’t I take you back to the barracks. You should rest.” When Sasuke didn’t respond, he tried to smile, but it was small and weary. “We can talk about your report after you’ve had some rest.”

They all knew. They’d all had their moments, and everyone present stared at him with sympathetic eyes. Humiliation washed over him again, and Sasuke tried to tamp down on the seething anger that bubbled up from within him. He didn’t want them treating him like some fragile _thing_ , but the only way to get away from their stares was to find someone who wouldn’t treat him differently, who wouldn’t stare at him like that.

“Where’s Vice-Captain Shiba?”

Captain Ukitake’s genial expression faltered. “Excuse me?”

“I want to talk to Vice-Captain Chiba Kaien.” The rage was clawing at the underside of his skin, trying to break free.

That eerie silence returned, and Captain Ukitake’s face twisted into utter pain. “Sasuke, I’m afraid he died while you were away.”

 

* * *

 

 

Kurayami was incessant. He wouldn’t _stop talking,_ and all Sasuke wanted was some _silence_. He started bringing down his mental wards against the zanpakuto, forcing him to shut up or be shut out entirely.

Kurayami’s voice started getting fainter. But Sasuke was so angry that he didn’t notice, didn’t even care until Mitsu spoke, presence far more powerful than Kurayami’s.

**“Sasuke. We need to talk.”**

That was all it took.

 

 

Sasuke opened his eyes to find himself already in the Uchiha Compound, Mitsu sitting beside him. They were both sitting on the _engawa_ , staring out at the courtyard and past the wall, where the forest loomed up into the sky.

They were both silent for a long, long time.

“You cannot pretend those feelings don’t exist.” Sasuke didn’t say anything, just kept his eyes firmly on the trees in the distance. “You cannot pretend Kurayami doesn’t exist.”

Sasuke hated sounding vulnerable. He hated _being_ vulnerable. But how was one supposed to hide a part of them from themselves? “What if I want to?”

“Then you will lose him. You will lose us.”

Sasuke didn’t answer, but he had no doubt Mitsu understood what his answer would be.

They stayed silent for a long time, until Kurayami no Mitsu gave an audible sigh, and pushed the mask off his face. Kurayami looked at Sasuke. (The change, as he understood it, went both ways. He was ready to at least talk; Kurayami no Mitsu was done with the silence.)

“Sasuke,” the zanpakuto adjusted his position, leaning back on his hands and letting his feet splay out before him, “let’s talk.”

“…About what?”

Kurayami huffed through his nose. “I don’t know, maybe about how you’re an emotionally-constipated prick?” He grinned in face of the deathly glare Sasuke leveled at him. “Admit it, you are. It’s your one true weakness, Sasuke. You don’t know how to handle any emotions except for anger, and everything else either channels that anger or gets locked away. You want to know the real reason you always lost to Naruto? It’s because mentally, _emotionally_ , he’s stronger than you. Always has been.”

Sasuke turned his scowl to the courtyard, fists bunching up the cloth of his shihakusho. “So you’re saying that unless I start learning how to deal with my emotions, I’ll never get stronger.”

Kurayami shrugged. “Something like that. So, let’s talk.” When Sasuke continued to be stubbornly silent, the blond let out an audible groan. “Ugh, fine. Let’s do it this way then. Why do you think I asked you to come into your inner world?”

“Because Shiba Kaien is dead.”

“What else?”

The ex-shinobi frowned, eyebrows still drawn but not quite as furrowed as before. “I had an episode.” He spoke of it distastefully, lip curling at the word.

“What else?”

Sasuke growled, whirling on the far too calm face of his zanpakuto. “Because I’m apparently an emotionally-constipated prick! _What else_ do you want to hear?”

Kurayami no Mitsu’s face was somber, and his voice was unusually quiet, as if both Kurayami and Mitsu were present at once. “The Fox Track Massacre.” The Uchiha twitched, eyes not quite meeting the other’s. “The War.” Another twitch. “Itachi’s death.” And another. “Orochimaru.” His dark eyes fell to the wood they sat on. “…The Uchiha Massacre.” A sharp inhalation of breath. “This goes farther back than just Kaien. He was just the straw that tipped the camel’s back.”

“…Most of that stuff happened a lifetime ago.” Despite his words, Sasuke sounded defeated; he knew Kurayami no Mitsu was right. They both knew.

“But you’re reliving memories. The memories you do have are in bits and pieces. You don’t remember everything, and thus you don’t have the coping methods your living self developed to deal with them. Sasuke,” when he paused, Sasuke looked up. His zanpakuto looked at him fondly, the way Naruto once looked at him. The way Itachi once did. “It’s okay to grieve.”

 

* * *

 

 

It took months of continually asking before Sasuke (reluctantly) agreed to be the new Vice-Captain of the Thirteenth. He still wasn’t particularly happy about it, despite the reputation boost. Apparently he had a very… interesting reputation, according to Ojima. (She’d accidentally spilled it once, and he’d proceeded to interrogate her about it for the next half hour, perpetuated by her nervous stuttering.) The members of the Thirteenth and Tenth respected him, for the most part, but the lower members of the other divisions feared him more. The idiots blamed him for the Fox Track Massacre.

_(Not that they were far off.)_

He shook the disparaging thought off as he walked the halls, ignoring the halting bows of the Shinigami he passed. The promotion had only just been made official a few days ago, the ceremony kept relatively small and short, per his request. (If he hadn’t, Matsumoto or Captain Shiba would have thrown some absurd, over-the-top party. He knew that look in their eyes.) It wasn’t necessarily required, but he’d taken to tying his badge to his _hakama-himo_. There was a mild comfort somewhere in that.

It also helped to remind some people that yes, he had actually been promoted.

Nodding to a few familiar faces as they passed, he finally reached his destination, knuckles rapping lightly on the wood before sliding the door open.

“Captain Shiba, you wanted to see me?”

It was a moot point, evidently, as the aforementioned Captain was out cold at his desk. Vice-Captain Matsumoto—or rather, just Matsumoto now, he still wasn’t entirely used to the difference in rank)—wasn’t present, but Third Seat Hitsugaya sat at the coffee table, doing paperwork. It only took a glance for Sasuke to pity the kid.

“A Third Seat shouldn’t be doing the Captain’s work.” Hitsugaya snorted in response, and Sasuke sighed.

**“This brings back memories, doesn’t it?”** Kurayami snickered, and the new Vice-Captain silently agreed as he hit the sleeping man firmly on the head. Isshin’s face smashed into the desk, and had he hit any harder, the Captain’s nose would’ve broken.

“HEY!!” Captain Shiba’s head shot up off the wood, one hand flying to his face, eyes watering and ink drying on his cheek. Sasuke didn’t even bother mentioning that last part.

“You wanted to see me?” If his drawl was just a little too disrespectful, the man didn’t say anything about it as his dark eyes alighted upon the new figure in the office.

“Sasuke, you know better than to treat your superiors like that! Especially your father!”

Well. It seemed some things never changed.

With a highly unamused look, he replied, “You’re not my father.”

Of course, it was around this time that Matsumoto returned, closing the door behind her. Isshin took this chance to leap in her direction. “My little boy’s saying such hurtful things!” He bawled, but his Vice-Captain smoothly dodged, sending the man flying through the door. She smiled brightly at Sasuke.

He took a step back. Just in case.

“Sasuke, hey! Congratulations on your promotion!” He dipped his head in thanks, eyes pointedly avoiding the obvious. Captain Shiba hauled himself to his feet, dusting off his _shihakusho_ and stepping through the remains of what had once been a perfectly intact door. Matsumoto continued. “We wanted to throw you a party, but the Head Captain wouldn’t let us.” Thank the gods the man had listened to his request. (Well, it had been his one condition on accepting the promotion.)

“So instead we got you a present!” Isshin practically _shunpoed_ in front of him, thrusting the gaudily wrapped gift into his hands. Sasuke rose a brow at the man, but accepted it nonetheless. If it was something stupid, he could burn it. “Go ahead and open it.”

He did, ripping off the wrapping and pulling off the lid of a rather poorly made box to find a white shirt inside. Sasuke let his other brow join the first high on his forehead as he gave the man a skeptical look, but Isshin just gestured excitedly at him.

He moved back towards the desk, setting the box down and pulling the cloth out, letting it unfurl before him.

It was a white zip up shirt, which should’ve been normal—a bland gift, really—if it weren’t for the high collar characteristic of the Uchiha clan. Isshin winked at him.

“…Thank you.”

It replaced the _shitagi_ and became a regular part of his attire.

 

* * *

 

 

Sasuke had every intention of escaping this meeting without any unnecessary interactions with the other lieutenants this time. Kuchiki was still MIA and Abarai had been completely out of sorts since. Sasuke had half a mind to repeat the incident from the Academy and ask him to a ‘practice match’, but considering their current relationship…

**“That would probably be going too far.”**

_‘He’s asking for it.’_

Mitsu stayed quiet. Sasuke had gotten better at distinguishing the two. Kurayami was by far much more talkative (and annoying), but on the other hand, Mitsu had more… presence. On the occasion where Kurayami wasn’t consistently talkative, it was almost hard to notice he was there. Whereas Mitsu, who rarely spoke, was an almost overpowering presence in comparison.

Of course, it was usually Kurayami at the forefront; Mitsu typically only appeared when there was business or a battle to be had.

“Ah, Sasuke!”

_(Damn_ , he had almost made it.)

Hinamori caught up to his quick pace, falling in step beside him. “I was hoping, if you aren’t busy, that you could join Izuru, Renji, and I for lunch today? It’ll be on me!” Since Sasuke had gotten promoted, Hinamori had somehow gotten it in her head to get him and Abarai in the same room. She probably thought that they would ‘talk it out’, and somehow make up and everything would be jolly. It was a real pain.

“Thanks for the offer, but I’ll have to decline.” He replied, voice bland and not at all sincere. Hinamori either didn’t notice his tone or chose to ignore it. Knowing her, probably the latter.

“Please? Just for an hour! I’d really owe you one!”

Sasuke was prepared to give her an excuse when someone else came up and gave one for him.

“Sorry Lieutenant, but he already promised to get a drink with me.” Kyoraku Shunsui tipped his hat in greeting and Hinamori dipped into a bow, Sasuke not even bothering as he watched the man approach. Drinking with Kyoraku was far worse than entertaining Hinamori’s peace-making attempts. He should’ve agreed while he’d had the chance.

**“He’s been hiding his presence and watching this for a while now. He’s totally been lying in wait for you.”**

_‘Dammit.’_

The Captain of the Eighth looped an arm around Sasuke’s shoulder, smiling and completely unassuming, though Sasuke definitely knew better.

_‘Conniving bastard.’_

“Well, if you already have plans, then maybe next time, Sasuke.” Hinamori bowed once more, smiling as she ran off to where Kira was standing off to the side, waiting for her.

**“There goes your last light of hope.”**

_‘Shut up.’_

**“Roger, roger~!”**

Kurayami sounded far too amused, but Sasuke sighed in resignation as Captain Kyoraku led him away from the meeting hall and towards no doubt the nearest location of alcohol.

They were interrupted by Captains Ichimaru and Aizen crossing their path. “Well, look who it is,” Captain Kyoraku tipped his hat to them, and Sasuke bowed perhaps a tad too stiffly. Captain Ichimaru reminded him a little too much of another snake-like man (even their names were similar). He liked to remark on the somewhat jerky movements that Sasuke sometimes had—hell, the man once cornered him about it. Sasuke somehow always managed to avoid answering his questions.

“Good day Captain Kyoraku, Vice-Captain Uchiwa,” Captain Aizen smiled, bowing lightly himself. For once, the man didn’t stop to make small talk, continuing on his way. Captain Ichimaru waved before following himself.

Before they could get too far, Kyoraku called after them, “How about joining us for a drink?”

Captain Aizen simply smiled. “Thanks for the offer, but I have business I must attend to.”

At the same time, Captain Ichimaru shrugged, smiling the way he always did. “Sure, why not?” Sasuke had no doubt he agreed only because he found Sasuke’s discomfort amusing.

 

 

And so Sasuke found himself stuck between two Captains, perched on the edge of a stool and slouched over a single cup of sake. He was pretty damn sure the Captain of the Eighth was past at least his third by now.

**“He definitely is.”**

The Captain downed another cup before speaking. “So, Sasuke, how are you adjusting to your promotion? The other Vice-Captains aren’t giving you a hard time?”

Sasuke let the alcohol in his cup swirl. It was going to be his only cup of the night, if he finished it at all. “No more than the usual.”

“You’re friends with Izuru, aren’t you?” Captain Ichimaru’s smile was just a little too sharp to be genial. Sasuke eyed him out of the corner of his eye when he replied.

“More like acquaintances.”

The silver-haired man simply hummed, a weird tension settling over them. It only lasted a few minutes, though, as Captain Kyoraku reached between the two of them, smiling and holding out the sake bottle.

“How about another drink?”

 

* * *

 

 

The third seat that was Hitsugaya Toshiro had been promoted. There were a lot of mixed feelings about it amidst Seireitei; he was the youngest Captain in the history of the Gotei 13, and many Shinigami felt that it should’ve been Vice-Captain Matsumoto Rangiku. But Matsumoto herself didn’t seem to have any problem with it, in fact seeming overjoyed at having a Captain that she no longer had to babysit.

Sasuke himself should’ve been happy for Hitsugaya. The two got on respectably enough, even if they didn’t talk much. But there was a bitterness that overshadowed the event, a darkness that harkened back to his previous life.

_Anger. Betrayal._

He still didn’t understand why Shiba Isshin had disappeared.

**“You know there was probably a good reason behind it.”**

Sasuke elected to ignore Kurayami, sidestepping a drunken subordinate as he followed the chaos towards the sound of a Matsumoto-organized party. Nearly all the Captains and Vice-Captains were present, as well as a fair number of Third Seats and what looked to be the entirety of the Tenth Division.

He probably shouldn’t have come.

“Sasuke~!” Matsumoto wobbled over to him, practically draping her body over his, boobs pushing into his arm. She smelled like booze. “I’m sooo glad you could _*hic*_ make it!”

He exhaled through his nose, pushing her off—to no avail, as she simply adjusted her stance, looping an arm around his shoulder, other hand waving a sake bottle about—and giving her an unamused look. “Matsumoto, you’re drunk.”

“ _Whaaaat?_ Sas- _*hic*_ -uke, it’s a _party_! Why _aren’t_ you drunk?”

“I don’t drink,” he deadpanned, continuing to move through the party, heedless of her weight. (If she fell on her face, it wasn’t his problem.)

And despite the number of times Captain Kyoraku dragged him to a bar or the Eighth Division barracks for a drink, he did try to limit the amount of alcohol he ingested. He had known the first time he’d had a drink that he could very easily become addicted. And he wasn’t going to be reduced to an alcoholic (unlike _some_ people in Seireitei).

He dodged a few wayward drunks as he pushed through the crowd. He would give his congratulations to Hitsugaya—well, _Captain_ Hitsugaya now—as was proper, and then he’d escape before someone could rope him into a drink. But apparently, he wasn’t the only one who decided this party was out of hand.

“Matsumoto,” Sasuke could barely turn his head to look at the mess hanging around his neck, “where’s your Captain?”

She hiccupped, blinking focus back into her eyes as she looked around. “Damn, looks like he ditched.” Well, at least she was starting to sober up a little.

Sasuke sighed. “So I gathered.” But at the very least, he had an idea of where the so-called ‘boy genius’ would be.

**“You’re not going to stay for a drink?”**

_‘No.’_

**“Not even one?”**

Sasuke sent Kurayami what he hoped was the mental equivalent of a kick to the back as he started wrestling with Matsumoto, who stubbornly stayed wrapped around his shoulders.

“You’re not going to stay for a drink?” What was once the respectable Vice-Captain of the Tenth was pouting at him, still clinging, much to Sasuke’s annoyance.

“No.”

“Not even one?”

**“HA.”**

The Vice-Captain of the Thirteenth pinched the bridge of his nose. “No.” He gave up wrestling with her for the moment in favor of pushing through the crowd towards the exit, inevitably dragging Matsumoto behind him. Somehow, the Shinigami were often more of an annoyance than the Konoha shinobi were.

No, both were equally insane.

Luckily, there seemed to be one responsible person in the vicinity.

“Captain Aizen,” in greeting, Sasuke gave as best of a bow as he could in his position, the genial man turning around and smiling at him.

“Ah, Sasuke.” That genial expression shifted into amusement at the sight of his predicament. “Need some help?”

“Please.” The Captain of the Fifth got the Vice-Captain off with an infuriating amount of ease. Sasuke nodded in thanks once he was free, Matsumoto whining at having to hold herself up.

“You’re quite welcome.” Captain Aizen waved as Sasuke finally made his escape, the clamor fading the further he got from the party. Of all the Captains, the Fifth was perhaps the friendliest—maybe with the exception of Captain Ukitake. He was always composed, helpful, trusted, and Hinamori adored him.

Sasuke didn’t trust the man in the slightest.

He had seen enough in both lifetimes to know there was always more to someone like that than met the eye. Kakashi was friendly and lazy and the complete opposite of his childhood vision of shinobi—until the bastard was trying to kill you. Hell, Naruto was the most obnoxious shinobi in the history of the Elemental Nations (he wore _bright orange_ for gods’ sake), but he ended up a kage.

At least, so Sasuke assumed. His memories were in pieces, fractured, and he had no idea exactly how long it had been since he’d died. Or how he’d died in the first place, for that matter. But for some reason, he believed Naruto could do it. Would do it, if he hadn’t already. Not that he would ever admit it. (He could just see the dobe’s face if he ever heard that.)

**“Noted. I’ll let him know if we ever see him.”**

_‘Do that and I’ll cut your throat.’_

**“You wouldn’t dare.”** Silence. **“…Would you?”**

Sasuke just smirked.

He found Hitsugaya in the Captain’s office. The white-haired Shinigami was standing before the desk, which was bare aside from the folded _haori_ placed carefully in the center.

“…Did he say anything to you?”

The shorter male was curt, as always, but the strength—the _pride_ —that was always present in his voice wavered, just a little. Just for a moment, and then it was gone again.

“No.”

Another minute of only the sound of their breathing, and in one sweeping movement, Hitsugaya picked up the _haori_ , putting an arm through, the white cloth fluttering until they settled against his back.

“Someday, I’ll find him.” The newly minted Captain turned to Sasuke with piercing eyes, their unusual color unearthly in the moonlight. “I expect you to help me, when the time comes.”

He smirked, inclined his head in acknowledgement. “Of course.”

 

* * *

 

 

When the hell butterfly came, Sasuke was dreaming.

 

_“…What happened to him? Your husband.”_

_Wakama-san shrugged; her tone was almost lighthearted. “Well, who knows? He walked into the forest one day and never walked out.”_

 

Eyelids flickered. He rolled over.

 

 

_“I refuse… to let this happen! I am Orochimaru! I am immortal! I will not die here! Destined to discover the true meaning behind everything! Destined to take control of everything in this world!!”_

 

Fingers twitched, curled.

 

 

_The creature’s mouth went slack as it shrieked in pain, and Sasuke winced at the sound. But he didn’t pause of hesitate as his uninjured arm swung up, throwing the blade deep into the creature’s white face. It went silent._

_“Wh… Why?” Eita whimpered, and Sasuke finally focused in on where the boy was, a dozen feet away, legs shaking so hard he couldn’t stand. “Why? Why would you save me?”_

 

A sharp intake of breath.

 

_Burning pain, searing him like poison, spreading from his back over to his neck and stomach and he was on fire, everywhere. And it burned it burned it burned it—_

 

 

Sasuke gasped as he bolted up, hand gripping that part of his upper back, not far from his shoulder blade. It still burned, like a brand being seared into his skin. He was sweating, the salty liquid soaking the couch he lay on. A hell butterfly was perched on his knee, patiently waiting.

**“Sasuke…?”**

He took a deep breath, and then another, before finally accepting whatever message it had brought.

**“An emergency meeting? Because of the Ryoka?”**

Sasuke hummed quietly in agreement. The hell butterfly flew off as Sasuke stood in one swift movement, grabbing both the _Itachi no Kinen_ and _Kurayami no Mitsu_ and strapping the blades to his waist. He tried to ignore the lingering tingling pain on his back.

“It’s about time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Engawa – The wooden strip of walkway you often see running around the outside of a traditional Japanese home, somewhat akin to a porch.  
> Haori – the Captain’s white over-coat.  
> Hakama-himo – The white belt on a Shinigami uniform.  
> Shitagi – the white undershirt of a shihakusho, essentially.  
> We’ve finally hit the canon timeline! :D Also, Sasuke may or may not have PTSD. Granted, I bet a lot of Shinigami (especially the high-ranking ones) do too.   
> This probably would’ve been up sooner, but I remembered how I’m trash when it comes to Dear Evan Hansen. Musicals, man. (Also I think my stepsister gave me her cold, but who cares about that, amiright?)
> 
> Also yeah, sorry, you don’t get to know what Sasuke’s mission was all about. (It was basically just boring reconnaissance, nothing special.)
> 
> But to answer several questions, I am not planning on doing any pairings right now. If I feel myself gravitating towards one for any reason later on, then perhaps, but for now this will be romance/harem free.


	10. Enter: The Hero of Another Story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning, in the end notes there's a big block of text explaining a certain conversation last chapter I've had a lot of people asking me about. If that's not you, feel free to skip it.

**2 August, 2001 – 4 August, 2001**

Sasuke landed outside the open door, hand resting casually on the hilt of his _katana_. He could hear conversation going on inside already, and stepped inside soundlessly, letting his spirit energy announce his presence.

“Sasuke!” Hinamori smiled up at him from where she sat on the floor, back to the wall of the assembly room. Sasuke nodded in greeting, eyes surveying the room around him. Other than Hinamori, it seemed all the lieutenants had arrived, with the exception of the Eleventh Division’s Kusajishi.

He noted silently some of the looks he’d received upon entering before leaning against a wall to wait. They may have been part of the same organization, but it didn’t mean they always trusted each other. (Or rather, trusted him.)

“So how long are we supposed to wait here?” Omaeda was as brusque as always, leaning against the wall with a bag of chips in hand. Vinegar-flavored crumbs spewed from his mouth when he spoke, and Ise wrinkled her nose.

“Until we’re told we don’t have to wait here any longer.”

The large man snarled at Abarai’s own discontented face, spewing more crumbs. “I know _that_! I’m asking how long it’ll be until then!”

“Hey, this is not the time to fight amongst ourselves.” Hisagi stepped between the two, looking back and forth between them sternly. “Everyone’s on edge right now, but we need to keep our heads. What do you think would happen if the rest of your Divisions saw this?”

“Shuuhei’s right,” Hinamori and Matsumoto stepped forward, and then Kira joined in, and Sasuke watched as the other Vice-Captains became embroiled in argument. If what Kusajishi was yelling about was any indication, the argument(s) had gone far astray of their original topic.

Vice-Captain Ise stepped back to lean against the wall beside the Vice-Captain of the Thirteenth with a sigh. Sasuke watched her from the corner of his eye for a moment before turning back to the ruckus. “Not gonna stop them?”

She just sighed and shook her head in response.

He felt for her, but was distracted when Omaeda’s voice raised above the din. He and Abarai were still arguing amongst the rest, who’d devolved into separate quarrels. The two that’d started the whole mess were by far the loudest, however.

“It’s low-class idiots like you that have turned the Thirteen Court Guard Squads into a madhouse!” The man’s face was red, his chip bag crumpled between his large fingers.

Abarai wasn’t much better, one hand fisted in the other’s shihakusho. “You’re calling me an idiot? I bet you don’t even know what that means! You call yourself a noble?”

**“How exactly did that argument devolve into _that_?”**

_‘Don’t ask.’_

“—if Uchiwa came from the dirt you must’ve come from the dust on his shoe!” Sasuke’s brow twitched.

Abarai tugged on the dark cloth to bring his mug closer to the other Vice-Captain’s. “And what the hell is that supposed to mean?! You saying that smug bastard’s better than me?”

Omaeda smirked, only for both men to stumble as a foot planted itself solidly in Omaeda’s back. They both turned, ire to each other forgotten for a moment as Sasuke scowled at them. “Leave me out of your pointless arguments.”

Growling at him, Abarai stepped around the bulk that was Omaeda Marechiyo in favor of getting in Sasuke’s face. He opened his mouth to say something—Sasuke would bet his next paycheck on it being something insulting—when the jarring sound of the alarm sent everyone in the room on guard.

The Sixth Division Vice-Captain (thankfully) stepped back and out of Sasuke’s personal space. His face turned dark—not the way it did with Sasuke, with hurt hidden by a thin façade of anger. No, it was a pensive, almost somber darkness that came with a silent resolve. If he hadn’t been standing so close, Sasuke doubted he’d have even noticed it.

“The ryoka!” He wasn’t quite sure who said it, but the next thing he knew everyone was racing towards the door. Orders were to stay in the conference room until given permission to leave. But it’s not like Sasuke was ever much for following stupid orders.

“Sasuke! Where are you going?” He ignored the voice calling him back, leaping over the balcony and onto the tiled rooftop. His Captain would understand anyway. (Ukitake was like that, knew him better than the man often let on.)

Unfortunately, the intruders didn’t land anywhere close to the conference room. So regardless of how fast he ran, someone else was likely to get there first. He just hoped he could get there fast enough before anyone got seriously hurt.

He glanced down, spotted some members of the Thirteenth running by, and dropped down from the roof before them. They startled for a moment, weapons raised to attack, before realizing who it was before them. They immediately snapped to attention. “Vice-Captain Uchiwa!”

Sasuke sighed; he must’ve forgotten he’d been hiding his spiritual pressure. It was something like second nature, hiding his presence; more often than not, he forgot he was doing it, unintentionally sneaking up on even his Captain.

“At ease.” They dropped their stance, but only hesitantly and at an expectant look from him. “Any sign of the ryoka?”

“No, sir. But there have been reports of battles across Seireitei.”

His eyes narrowed at the affirmation of his earlier suspicions. “And where are you headed?”

“To assist Third Seat Madarame Ikkaku, sir.”

Shouting arose not far from them, in the opposite direction. At the same time, a spike in spiritual pressure—equivalent to that of a third seat, he noted—arose behind him. Sasuke sighed. “I’ll go assist the third seat. Go help out whoever’s shouting.”

There was only a brief moment of hesitation amongst them before they bowed and turned around to assist the source of the shouting. Seeing that they were on their way, Sasuke turned and headed towards the spike in spiritual pressure.

He was a little too late, it seemed, and Sasuke watched with wide eyes as a tall head of brightly shaded hair slashed open Third Seat Madarame’s chest, the man already bleeding profusely. Madarame collapsed before the ryoka, but Sasuke’s eyes were fixed on that hair.

“Naruto…?” He turned with a start, but no, that face was too angular, too hard to be the dobe’s obnoxious expression. And with the movement, the sunlight shifted, and the man’s hair wasn’t blond, but more orange.

The ryoka wasted no time in holding a defensive position, not running like Sasuke half-expected him to. He tried to ignore Kaien’s eyes glaring at him like he was the enemy. (But he was. He was the enemy.)

Sasuke rested his hand on Kurayami no Mitsu, prepared to fight, but not quite able to bring himself to start it.

They stared each other down like that for ages, neither quite ready to attack, simply watching wearily. Another five minutes passed before Sasuke got sick of it, stepping out of his defensive stature with the ease of moving water, dropping to a seated position. The Kaien-lookalike stared back at him, seeming thoroughly shaken, and asked at the same time Kurayami spoke up,

“You’re not going to fight me?”  
**“You’re not going to fight him?”**

The Vice-Captain’s brow twitched, already irritated with himself for not doing exactly that. “No.” He glared at the dumbstruck features. The guy might look like Kaien, but he decidedly had the brains of Naruto. (Maybe they were related in some way.) “Who are you?”

The ryoka blinked once, twice, and answered. “Kurosaki Ichigo.” It took him another minute to ask, “Who are _you_?”

_‘This guy really is an idiot.’_ “Vice-Captain of the Thirteenth Division, Uchiwa Sasuke. If you don’t know that much, you won’t survive much longer.”

The ryoka—Kurosaki, apparently—seemed to deem Sasuke as a non-threat for the moment, plopping down before him. Madarame was still bleeding out behind him, and seeming to realize that, Kurosaki grabbed Madarame’s zanpakuto, uncapping a little compartment on the hilt. Sasuke watched with a mild interest as the man scooped up some kind of ointment from within and scrubbing it over the cut above his eye, and then the injuries on his arm. But then the man—he was really more a teenager—took more of that ointment, carefully rolling Madarame over and pushing aside the shredded remains of his shihakusho to rub that same ointment over the wounds.

“What are you doing?” Sasuke blurted before he could take control of the utter surprise. This ryoka who wore a shihakusho of his own, he should’ve been angry at Seireitei or the Captain-Commander or _someone_. That was why people usually invaded Seireitei, right? To get revenge or power or some other bullshit. But this guy was so completely, utterly _unthreatening_. If he hadn’t watched the man cut down Madarame himself, he wouldn’t have believed the guy had done it at all.

At his question, however, Kurosaki looked back at him with this absurd look, as if to ask, _what does it look like I’m doing?_ Sasuke wanted to punch that face in. “Keeping him from dying, what else?”

If Sasuke were anyone else, he’d be outright gaping. As it was, however, he could picture a pineapple-head with that exact expression, and Sasuke _really_ wanted to hit this guy. He watched Kurosaki continue to patch up Madarame, until the major wounds were covered and the ointment was just about gone. The ryoka finally sat back with a sigh, and Sasuke stood, walking towards him. He noted the sheer size of the blade—it hadn’t returned to its sealed state, meaning the guy must’ve had some problems with controlling his spiritual pressure or the like—glancing towards the unconscious Madarame before delivering a firm kick to Kurosaki’s side.

The man went over, gawking at Sasuke incredulously before that quickly morphed into a scowl. “What was that for?!”

“You remind me of an idiot I know.” Sasuke turned to step through the gaping hole in the wall, hearing Kurosaki scrabbling up.

“Huh?”

Sasuke ignored the inquiry, smirking to himself as he walked away. “Guess I’ll have to tell the others the ryoka got away.” He mused aloud, hoping it was obvious enough for Kurosaki to get the picture. But if that was the kind of person the ryoka was, he doubted they really had much to worry about after all. In the meantime, maybe he could take a nap.

He tried to convince himself that that’s all it was, and that it had nothing to do with the carefully hidden ache in his chest.

 

* * *

 

 

_There was something wrong._

_He brought his senses under control, breathing shallowly through his mouth as he started running, one step away from sprinting. The village was silent, eerily so, but as he got into the busier streets, he stumbled to a stop, legs losing strength from the shock._

_There was blood_ everywhere. _He gagged as his eyes caught sight of a limp arm hanging out of a doorway. From the size, its owner couldn’t have been older than him._

_That thought sent him running again, eyes flicking back and forth against his will at the sheer amount of death surrounding him. He didn’t dwell on it, didn’t focus on the limp body parts or the broken weapons stained red with blood. He raced past it, straight for his home, his_ family _._

_The street was quiet, and compared to the rest, bloodier, ANBU and civilians alike littering the road. He made a beeline for the house, its normally warm and inviting entrance now foreboding._

_He burst through, eyes looking frantically around the entrance, before moving to the main room. It was empty. He wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or afraid as he entered the bedroom, only to find it empty as well. No one was home. It was possible, then, that they had escaped before everything had happened._

Or they were in the middle of it all, back on the main street, _that evil little voice in the back of his head whispered, and Sasuke cursed at it. He wouldn’t think like that._

_His feet took him back to the main street nonetheless, eyes now looking at the corpses that littered the area, searching for a particular face. He recognized many of them. Auntie lay flat in the middle of the street, one of her arms missing from the rest of her body. Sasuke found it several feet away, hidden under a child’s body._

_Uncle sat slumped against the wall nearby, clutching an unrecognizable body in his arms. They used to greet him every morning. They used to give him treats._

_There was a strangled scream, and Sasuke raced towards it before his mind had even caught up with the fact._

_The source of the sound wasn’t far off, and Sasuke traced it back to a nearby weapons shop. He felt the blood drain from his face. The shop was a mess—broken blades lay everywhere, stuck in walls or overturned tables. The curtain that separated the forgery from the main shop lay in tatters on the ground. Another scream, a more feminine one, came from within the forgery._

_Sasuke took a deep breath, drawing a kunai and holding it in a white-knuckled grip. He crept quietly inside the shop, body tense as he drew closer to the forgery._

_There was so much blood, and Sasuke didn’t think he could see straight. Dad’s body lay before him, labored breaths the only sound inside. Mom lay under a table, blank eyes staring at the doorway, at Sasuke. A person stood over dad, straight back and long dark hair. Dad’s eyes turned in Sasuke’s directions, fluttering. He was still alive._

_Sasuke tried to be completely silent, raised his blade, and the perpetrator turned around to face him. Where the mask had been broken he could see an eye—a human eye that stared at him, assessing, sharingan within swirling. He opened his mouth, as if to speak._

 

 

 

Sasuke took a deep breath, and then another, blinking against the bright sun. Something had woken him up, and it wasn’t the dream. (Although he made a mental note to talk to Unohana about sleeping remedies.) He reached carefully for a kunai, fingers finding the comforting ring and curling around it. But he was the only one on the rooftop.

“ _Oi,_ Ganju~!” Sasuke blinked at the screaming that followed the call of that familiar voice, and through the sleep-induced haze that had yet to lift, he turned, looking for Kaien. Kaien used to go with his wife to visit his younger brother and sister, once even dragging Sasuke along. It had been… fun. But when Sasuke looked below into the street, two semi-familiar figures were standing there, surrounded by other Shinigami. The haze lifted, and Sasuke watched, dumbfounded, at Kurosaki and _Ganju_ of all people holding a blade to the neck of a Fourth Division member. They had conspiratorial grins on their faces, their hostage pale with fear, the surrounding Shinigami looking decidedly unimpressed.

Kurayami was rolling with laughter. **“They think that’s going to work? Look at those idiots’ faces!”**

“Why is Ganju even _here_?”

Someone must have heard him, because one of the Eleventh Division members looked up, face alighting in malicious glee upon sighting him. “Vice-Captain Uchiwa!” Everyone else turned, Kurosaki setting inquisitive eyes on him. Ganju’s narrowed in what was probably recognition, and the Fourth Division member visibly slackened in relief.

“What a pain,” he grumbled, dropping down to ground level. These fools were idiots if they thought Kurosaki’s threat was actually serious. That stupid look on his face said it all.

**“You’re just saying that cause that’s the look Naruto gets when he gets a dumb idea.”**

_‘That’s the look you get when you get a dumb idea, too. In case you’ve forgotten who you look like.’_

**“Hey! I resemble that comment!”**

He didn’t bother dignifying that with an answer.

Unsheathing Kurayami no Mitsu, Sasuke suppressed a yawn, raising a brow at Kurosaki. He couldn’t get out of this one, but it was that idiot’s fault for attracting so much attention. Although…

“Release the hostage if you’re done being a coward.”

That stupid grin returned to the carrot-top’s head. At least he wasn’t stupid enough to not understand what Sasuke was trying to do. (Unlike Naruto, maybe this kid had some hope.)

“Only if you want him dead!” Ganju made only brief eye contact with Sasuke before throwing down what was apparently a smoke bomb. The Eleventh Division members scrambled to do something about it, but the two boys and their hostage had already high-tailed it away. If he tried, Sasuke was sure he could sense Kurosaki’s distinct reiatsu, (there was something oddly familiar about it, but he couldn’t quite place it) but the whole point was that he wasn’t going to try.

When the smoke finally cleared, the Shinigami whirled around, looking for the ryoka. Sasuke made a show of glancing through the area before saying, “Damn, looks like they got away,” making sure to speak loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Those bastards are slippery if they can escape even you, Vice-Captain.” Sasuke grunted, dodging a friendly pat on the shoulder as he sheathed his zanpakuto.

He high-tailed it out of there himself before the other Shinigami could rope him into something stupid again. (Zaraki’s crew was to be feared, but not for the reason one ought to think. Sasuke shuddered at the memory.)

 

* * *

 

 

When Abarai’s spiritual pressure initially spiked, Sasuke thought little of it. It was obvious what had happened. But another spike of spiritual pressure followed, one that didn’t belong to Abarai. Sasuke’s head jerked up from where he’d been talking to some subordinates, swiveling in the direction of the battle.

“Isshin?”

 

* * *

 

 

Sasuke landed just outside the Sixth Division barracks. He wasn’t a huge fan of the place, given that it wasn’t very different from the rest of the barracks in appearance. But each Division had its own personality, so to speak, and the Sixth Division reminded him far too much of the Uchiha Compound for his tastes. The frown already present on his face turned down just a little further.

“What are your thoughts?”

Sasuke didn’t need to turn around to know who was behind him. “Captain Hitsugaya.” He inclined his head in greeting as the smaller man stepped up beside him, staring up at the number painted on the wall. “He’s a lot like Captain Shiba.”

The Tenth Division Captain stared at him critically with those carefully guarded teal eyes. “You fought with the ryoka?”

Sasuke didn’t bother hiding his grimace this time. His silence proved enough of an answer, and Hitsugaya sighed. “If there weren’t more pressing issues on hand, I’d have you arrested for that.”

“For a moment, I thought he was Shiba Kaien.” 

“Do you think he’s…?”

Sasuke sighed irritably, “I don’t know.” And he hated not knowing. “What are these more pressing issues?”

The young Captain crossed his arms, and suddenly it seemed like the weight on his shoulders was much, much heavier. “That’s what I wanted to warn you about. You can take care of yourself, but watch out for the Third Division.”

Captain Hitsugaya shunpoed away with that warning, and Sasuke filed the thought away for later conversation with Kurayami no Mitsu as he stepped into the building. He had no trouble getting to the barracks’ prison—evidently, Captain Kuchiki wasn’t present at the moment, thank the gods—and Sasuke found Abarai lying in bed, cuffed, but awake. Sasuke closed the door behind him, leaning against it to stare at his colleague in the cell.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look this pitiful before, Abarai.” The man didn’t answer, and whatever attempt at geniality Sasuke had attempted drained out of him. Abarai was sulking, and it pissed him off. He apparently hadn’t matured since their Academy days. “I’m sick of that piss-poor attitude of yours. When will you stop sulking and actually get off your sorry ass to do something about it for a change?”

That didn’t get the reaction he’d been hoping for, but at the very least, the redhead was finally looking at him. It was the look in his eyes, however, that startled Sasuke. This wasn’t the man from the Academy, with the dejected appearance of an abandoned dog. This was a Shinigami who had just found their resolve to fight.

Sasuke sighed, and with the air, the anger drained out of him. He watched Abarai slowly, achingly sit up, wincing at the pain it caused to his still-healing wounds. “You’ve already decided what to do about it, haven’t you?” Abarai’s stare was enough of an answer. Outside of business, Sasuke couldn’t remember the last time they’d spoken civilly to one another. Sometime before that sparring session. “I suppose I don’t need to tell you that Kurosaki isn’t a bad person.”

Abarai snorted, mouth twisted in an attempt to hide the positive emotions. “No, really?”

There was quiet, not quite silence. And for the first time in over 49 years, Sasuke felt guilt gnawing at the nonexistent contents of his stomach. Still, it took Mitsu’s nonverbal urging to get him to spit it out.

“…I’m sorry, Abarai. Back at the Academy, I went too far.”

Sasuke didn’t look at the other Vice-Captain for a good several moments, but when he did, dark eyes met brown. They were intense, searching, but they weren’t angry.

“It’s okay. You were right. I was drowning in self-pity rather than actually doing something. I won’t do it again.” There was such a resolve in those words, like tempered steel forming itself into a fine blade, and Sasuke inadvertently felt a well of something like affection rise up within him. Abarai had grown after all.

He smirked. “If you do, I’ll be sure to kick your ass back into shape.” Abarai barked out a laugh, and it was as if 49 years of anger had never existed, and it was a friendly rivalry pushing each other to run higher and higher up the tree.

Sasuke’s eyes crinkled at the corners, just a little, as he buried the newly found memory away in its proper place. It took effort, sometimes—some memories, especially those of Naruto, (especially those of his brother) wouldn’t leave for a long time after their initially return, taking up the entirety of his thoughts for hours on end and making it hard to focus on anything else.

Straightening up off the wall, Sasuke popped his knuckles as he opened up the door again. “I should return to my post. Special war orders now.” He paused for a moment before adding, “From the looks of it, no one else is here right now either.”

He would’ve left it at that, if not for Abarai’s voice speaking up. “You sure you shouldn’t take a break? You look kinda sick.”

Sasuke was quick to reply, “Just some trouble sleeping. I’m fine.” He left at a run just to prove he could.

**“I’m surprised. You didn’t get annoyed with him once during that entire conversation.”**

Sasuke was surprised too. Maybe they had both grown a little.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I just want to say, before people get onto me about it, my reasoning for not having Sasuke fight Ichigo and even being civil with him is because he doesn’t see Ichigo as a real threat yet. He’s not exactly the biggest fan of the Court Guard Squads himself, and as of this moment, he doesn’t believe Ichigo is a bad person. (Probably because he reminds him of people he respects. Though that may be stretching it with Naruto, haha.) Of course, I assure you things will change when you-know-what happens.
> 
> I know a lot of people were complaining about my inaccuracies with the conversation Kurayami no Mitsu had with Sasuke about strength and mental fortitude last chapter. As I’ve explained to some, while there’s definitely been change throughout the series, from what I’ve seen, throughout a large part of the series Naruto does have stronger mental fortitude. Granted, they both get much stronger mentally/physically/spiritually, but Naruto matures faster initially, whereas Sasuke is stuck in his clan’s Curse of Hatred and all that. And yes, I don’t believe Sasuke loses much at all (if ever) to Naruto, but particularly in the earlier half of Naruto, Sasuke leaves for Orochimaru because he feels like he’s losing to Naruto, who’s making leaps and bounds in terms of getting stronger. In comparison, Sasuke felt inferior and he hated it.   
> Also, keep in mind that the Sasuke I am writing has lost most of his memory, and the bits and pieces he does remember are not in any particular order. Like, he remembers Itachi murdering the Uchihas, but he doesn’t remember his death. On the other hand, he may remember parts of the War but not the mission for Tazuna in the Land of the Waves. Memories make up a large part of our personality and who we are, and as of this moment in time, Sasuke remembers only a small part of his living life. He’s about equivalent to his self in the first half of Naruto, as a lot of the stuff he does remember he doesn’t have closure for (like the Uchiha Massacre). While later on in the series, such as in Naruto Shippuden, Kurayami’s lecture doesn’t necessarily apply anymore, I think it’s fitting for where Sasuke is at now. He doesn’t remember most of his fights with Naruto, but he remembers that feeling of inferiority, of being weak. And I believe he hates that feeling because as a child he felt inferior to his brother, shown in their father’s favoritism, and then weak during the Massacre, unable to stop Itachi. Naruto I think has also felt inferior, given the village’s discrimination, but due to the nature of his source of inferiority, once he was shown affection by friends, a team, and mentor figures, he improved fast enough to make up for the years stagnating. 
> 
> Just thought I needed to explain my reasoning for that one conversation last chapter. Do keep in mind that I am not finished with the series so there may be inaccuracies there, but that is from what knowledge I do have. (Also, another complaint I get is that adult!Sasuke would be better than teen!Sasuke in this particular story, but I never did explicitly say how old he was. And since his memories are missing… And you can’t say by the arm, cause his body was what lost the arm, not his soul, which is what went to Soul Society.)


	11. By the Time You Realize You're Attached to These People, It's Too Late

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was so excited to write this chapter you have no idea. *v* It actually would’ve been up 2 days ago, but it got so long I was trying to decide if I should finish it or split it in two.   
> (The answer is that it’s been split, so if the next chapter’s kinda short, that would be why.)

**5 August, 2001 – 6 August, 2001**

 

Sasuke arrived relatively early to the meeting the next morning, taking a seat beside Tetsuzaemon. The two exchanged a brief nod in greeting, waiting in silence for the rest of the Vice-Captains to arrive. Kira and Hisagi arrived not long after, followed by Matsumoto, who was cutting it close as usual.

“Where’s Momo?” She asked, looking around the room at the four of them.

“Running late, I suppose,” Hisagi replied, everyone in the room trying not to let their concern show. Sasuke highly doubted Kurosaki (or anyone in his party, for that matter) would hurt someone like Hinamori. She tended to be a bit of an airhead sometimes.

Someone _screamed_ , and Sasuke jumped to his feet, everyone turning towards the door.

“What was that scream?”

“It came from the Eastern Wall!” Tetsuzaemon replied, their ranks showing through at the cold, blank expressions that shuttered over their faces, already preparing for the worst. Sasuke set a hand on the hilt of his zanpakuto.

“That was Hinamori’s voice…” Upon his own realization, Kira bolted out of the room. Sasuke cursed before following him, the other three not far behind.

It was only a minute before they caught sight of her, body frozen in shock. Kira raced directly for her, barely taking stock of his surroundings as he did so. Sasuke froze a good several feet away. He understood now what had caused her to scream like that.

“Hinamori! What’s wrong? Hinamori!” It took her continual unresponsive gaze for Kira to finally turn around. “Wha…! I-It can’t be…!”

“Captain Aizen!” Matsumoto gasped from beside Sasuke, but it sounded distant and far away.

It was just… sheer impossibility. Regardless of Sasuke’s own trust issues, Captain Aizen was one of the friendliest Captains in the Thirteen Court Guard Squads. There wasn’t a soul who didn’t like him or his Vice. Hell, even if they didn’t like him, they wouldn’t hurt Hinamori. Everyone knew how much she adored him. Sasuke’s mind raced, going through every Shinigami he’d ever met, trying to understand. But every single one, they wouldn’t. They wouldn’t kill a man they respected, trusted.

_Cold, cold eyes. Emotionless red eyes. A voice spoke. That voice wrought mixed emotions in him—love, hate, admiration, betrayal. Father’s eyes. Cold, emotionless. Dead. Staring at him._

Would they? Because what did he know about them, really? What did he know about anyone?

_They were dead, collapsed in a pool of their own blood. Father, mother._

He never bothered to get to know them. But he’d never have thought…

_Cold red eyes stared at him. He held hope. Weapons flew past him, tore a cut in his shoulder. Cold red eyes stared at him. Everyone around him was dying. Over and over again. Father, mother. Pools of blood._

But he knew them. He knew these people. He’d watched them for years, learned to understand their tendencies and habits. Many of them weren’t even strong enough to be a match to the Captain. Ichimaru would be the most suspicious, but despite his demeanor, the Captain of the Third probably knew Captain Aizen more than anyone else. But Hitsugaya had warned him. Who else could there be? Who else would have any possible reason to kill him?

_“You’re not even worth killing.”_

“ _Captain Aizen!”_ Hinamori screamed, and it was like a shock of electricity ran through him, tearing Sasuke out of his thoughts. Anger—no, betrayal—ran through him, white and hot. There was one person. One person who would have reason to hurt him.

_Kurosaki._

Hinamori stumbled forward, slowly, one step at a time. “Captain Aizen… No… No…” Tears streamed down her face, and Sasuke’s blood boiled. For all his complaints, Hinamori was one of the gentlest people he’d known. She was like Hinata, life devoted to that one special person. Not meant for this kind of job, but finding strength in her own way.

_“Sasuke!” Sighing, he turned to greet Hinamori with a nod as she ran up to him, practically dragging Kira behind her. “Happy birthday! It’s been such a long time, but you look like you’re doing well!”_ (He hadn’t the heart to tell her that he’d been avoiding her, back then. She was too kind, too innocent.) _“When I heard about your birthday, I wasn’t sure what to get you, but then I saw these!” She produced a basket with an absurd red ribbon to the handle. It’s filled to the brim with fresh, ripe tomatoes. “These are you favorite food, right?”_

“Captain Aizen…!”

Someone that thoughtful didn’t deserve to cry like that.

“What’s all this racket, so early in the morning?” That was one voice he really didn’t want to hear at that moment. They all whirled around to find Captain Ichimaru standing there, utterly nonchalant and unconcerned. “Oh…? This is a terrible situation, isn’t it?”

Sasuke wasn’t exactly fond of the Third Division, especially in the wake of recent events, but when he glanced out of the corner of his eye at Hinamori, he was paralyzed for a moment. He’d never seen that much _hatred_ in her eyes before.

“ _So, it was you!”_ She practically flew past all of them, one hand pulling out her zanpakuto. Tears still streamed down her face, but her gaze was laser-focused on Captain Ichimaru, and the intent to kill was left in her wake, pouring from her blade.

But Kira wasn’t far behind, and it was his blade that blocked Hinamori’s, mere inches from his Captain’s neck. “Kira… Why…?”

“I’m the Vice-Captain of the Third Division. No matter what the reason, I cannot allow anyone to raise a sword against the Captain.” His voice was calm, collect, but his cold expression trembled, warring between duty and bonds. But Sasuke knew he would take Kira’s side before it went any further. Not for Captain Ichimaru’s sake, but…

The Third Division Captain let his ever-present smile grow a little wider before he turned around and walked away, Hinamori and Kira still locked in a stalemate.

“Please… get out of my way… Kira!”

“I cannot.” His voice shook.

“Move! Get out of my way!”

“No!”

Hinamori’s face twisted, the expression ugly and unfitting on someone like her. Sasuke wasn’t sure he even recognized her anymore. “Can’t you hear me? I said to _move!_ ”

“Can’t you hear me say no?!” Kira was just as determined, however, even as his voice shook and his eyes pleaded.

“ _Deflect it, Tobiume!”_ It was the moment she released her blade that Sasuke knew he had to take action. He withdrew Kurayami no Mitsu just as Hinamori sent smoke and fire billowing up into the air, wind buffeting him hard enough to hold him back a little longer.

“Releasing your zanpakuto in a place like this… How thoughtless!” The smoke cleared, splinters of wood parts littering the ground between Kira and Hinamori. “Do you realize what you are doing?! Do not confuse public matters with private, Vice-Captain Hinamori!” He had fully retreated into his knowledge of how a Vice-Captain should act. The trembling had all but disappeared.

Hinamori sent another sphere of energy flying, but it careened past Kira, missing Ichimaru and impacting the side of a building.

**“She’s lost control.”**

“I see… Then I have no choice.” The Vice-Captain of the Third Division watched the impact before turning back to face Hinamori, own blade raising to meet hers. “I shall dispose of you as an enemy.” He leaped into the air, poised to attack, “ _Raise your head, Wabisuke!”_ And Sasuke leaped forward himself at the command.

A voice whispered, “Stand down,” and a cold wind breezed past him, Hitsugaya stepping between the two combatants with the ease of a Captain. “Don’t either of you move.” His face was cool, collected and an iron wall over his true emotions. (But it had always been, hadn’t it?)

“Hitsugaya…” Hinamori seemed to come back to her senses at the sight of her childhood friend, but Hitsugaya wasn’t looking at her anymore, staring daggers at Sasuke, as if asking, _why did you let it go this far?_

“Arrest the two of them!”

 

* * *

 

 

Kotetsu and Kotsubaki were shit at sneaking around, to put it plainly. They were keeping a good distance from the Captain, but Sasuke had no doubt the man knew they’d been following for quite a while now. He trailed behind them, keeping a closer distance than they, given that even on a good day they couldn’t sense him before he walked into a room.

They finally stopped right before the Senzaikyu, lying flat against the slope of the tiles. It would seem they weren’t alone either. Captain Kuchiki was there as well, along with his younger sister (though that was a given, considering where they were; the real question would be what was she doing outside her cell) and that Fourth Division kid Kurosaki’d ‘taken hostage’ before. Further down the walkway was Ganju, bloody and unconscious.

_Oh._

**“But why would a Shiba try to rescue her of all people?”**

Sasuke sighed, landing on the roof between his two Third Seats. They both jumped at his sudden presence, whirling around. “V-V-Vice-Captain Uchiwa, sir!”

Sasuke raised a brow at the two, both looking sheepish at having been caught. “It’s fine that you’re worried about the Captain, but next time, just ask if you can accompany him.”

“…Yes, sir.”

Despite his words, Sasuke himself stayed on the roof rather than joining his Captain. At least, for the moment, as it seemed Captain Ukitake had things handled.

Whatever conversation the two men on the walkway had been having was interrupted, however, with a sudden surge of spiritual pressure. Sasuke recognized it almost immediately, but he stumbled on the rooftop for a moment in shock. It had grown immensely.

_‘How is he already at Captain-level?’_

Regaining his bearings quickly (they were far enough to not feel the full brunt of it), Sasuke leaped off the roof, landing on the walkway. Captain Ukitake paid him no mind as from beneath them, Kurosaki _flew_ up, landing on the walkway in front of Rukia.

Sasuke withdrew Kurayami no Mitsu, that familiar boiling of his blood arising a killing intent within him. He didn’t want to fight Kurosaki, but if was the one that had killed Captain Aizen and hurt Hinamori…

Obviously, however, Kurosaki had the brains of a dobe, because rather than actually facing his opponents, he and Rukia started bickering. Despite that, however, they seemed… friendly. He sighed, lowering his blade. There was no way someone like that could kill Captain Aizen. He wasn’t sure about the rest of his group, but if they were anything like Kurosaki, they were probably safe too. (He’d have to ask about Kurosaki’s relationship with Rukia later, however.)

“That man…” Sasuke turned to his Captain, face painted in utter shock, though with just the slightest glimmer of hope. “Just who is he?”

“It’s not him.” He hated being the one to take away the hope in the man’s eyes. They were always far too sad.

Captain Kuchiki stepped forward, and Sasuke sheathed his blade. He couldn’t help Kurosaki now—wouldn’t, as he still couldn’t completely rid himself of that lingering doubt. He stood next to his Captain, knowing very well the man was eyeing him, wanting to say something.

“Sasuke,” and there it was, “You didn’t seem very surprised.”

“I’ve run into him.”

The man’s mouth was a thin line of disappointment, though Sasuke could see the amusement hiding in one corner. “Why didn’t you report it?”

“I was… preoccupied with other matters.” The amusement (and the disappointment) faded at the reminder of recent events. Whatever his Captain wanted to say was lost, however, when a woman stopped Captain Kuchiki’s _Senbonzakura_.

“Shihoin Yoruichi,” Sasuke had never seen her, but he knew that name. The Shihoin clan…

It would explain a lot, if Kurosaki was being backed by someone like her. Sasuke shifted his stance, but Captain Ukitake place a firm hand on his shoulder. Sasuke glanced at him, questioning, but the man just shook his head. He wasn’t to interfere.

So Sasuke stood by and watched as Shihoin Yoruichi took Kurosaki away.

“Where’re you going, Byakuya? Didn’t you come to capture the ryoka?” The member of the Thirteenth watched the noble walk away. Sasuke continued eyeing his Captain out of the corner of his eye.

“I’ve lost interest. Do what you want now.”

Captain Ukitake sighed, “Good grief, he’s as willful as ever.” They both turned to look at Rukia as she collapsed, the Fourth Division kid rushing to her. The remaining Captain raised a hand to his mouth, turning to where the Third Seats were still hidden. “Hey! Sentaro! Kiyone! Come out here!”

As always, they came down and greeted him simultaneously. “You called, Captain, sir?”

That amusement danced at the edge of his lips once more. “So you did follow me. How long were you there?” Both pairs of eyes flicked to Sasuke for a moment before the bickering started. Sasuke sighed. These two were a headache sometimes.

“Never mind that,” Ukitake finally interrupted them, sending out orders of his own. Once the two gave their affirmative, the Captain turned to him. “And Sasuke, we’ll need to talk.” Sasuke sighed. Of course he wasn’t going to escape trouble that easily.

Thankfully, it wasn’t quite right away, as Captain Ukitake turned to examine the extent of Ganju’s wounds. The Division 4 kid watched, nervous energy practically radiating off of him. “You want to know why I’m helping you?”

“Ah… yes.”

“Of course, I’ll help you. We don’t know who killed Aizen yet. And it’s very likely that you outsiders know something about it. We can’t kill you without investigating first. And above all else…” The hard lines of his face softened, and the man went from the Captain of the Thirteenth Division to the man known as Ukitake Juushirou. “Though your methods were bad, you tried to rescue my subordinate. I can’t let you die.” His expression reached something resembling a smile, sad, but grateful.

 

* * *

 

 

“Reporting! An urgent message from the guard stations.” Sasuke had expected this to come sooner or later. Abarai had probably gone off to do what he felt was necessary. Captain Ukitake was back in bed for the moment, and thankfully, Sasuke hadn’t gotten too much of a lecture before the man needed to lie down.

**“That’s cruel, thanking the gods that your Captain is sick.”**

Sasuke ignored Kurayami in favor of letting this guy finish up his report. “Lieutenant Abarai, Lieutenant Hinamori, and Lieutenant Kira,” Sasuke’s eyes widened in not quite concealed surprise, “have vanished from their cells!”

**“All three of your old Academy friends? Did you miss the memo?”**

_‘This isn’t the time.’_

There wasn’t a need to go check the scene of the crime. Abarai was probably out for Rukia or something of the like, and Kira wouldn’t leave the cell of his own accord. He’d have to go look for Kira later, but his first priority was Hinamori. In her current state, there was no doubt of what she was gonna try to do.

Sasuke dismissed the messenger before booking it out of the barracks. He had to find Hinamori before anyone else. (He could still feel Hitsugaya’s eyes glaring daggers into him. _Why did you let this go so far?_ )

It was quiet outside—but that was a given, as most of the ryoka had been captured and from what he’d seen, Kurosaki was out for the count for a few days—and Sasuke fought back the bad memories tickling at the edges of his mind. There wasn’t time for that.

**“When is there ever time?”** Kurayami sounded oddly bitter for a moment, but Sasuke didn’t have time to reflect on that, as he arrived upon a scene that left him reeling not for the first time that day.

Captain Ichimaru and Kira stood there, watching as Hinamori drew her sword against Hitsugaya. Sasuke knelt upon the roof, out of sight.

**“What the hell is happening around here?”**

_‘That’s what we’re here to find out.’_

“The true purpose for this execution is not to kill Kuchiki Rukia. This execution was contrived in order to steal a certain object. Its true objective is… the Sokyoku. The Sokyoku’s seal is broken only for an execution. In its blade lies the destructive power of a million zanpakuto. It also possesses the defensive ability to block equally powerful zanpakuto, as well. Moreover, when a Shinigami is crucified and stabbed with Sokyoku, its power grows dozens of times over. The one who plotted this execution plans to use this power to destroy not only the Seireitei, but Soul Society itself, and the name of this vile person is Hitsugaya Toshirou.” Hitsugaya let out an audible gasp, both him and the hidden figure watching reeling from the information. “The letter goes on to say…” But Sasuke wasn’t listening anymore.

It just didn’t make sense. Why would Hitsugaya, of all people, do something of the sort? His own expression said as much. He was missing a piece to the puzzle, but he couldn’t for the life of him understand what it was.

Hinamori brought her sword down in a large crash, Hitsugaya leaping backwards, trying to reason with her. There was no use, reasoning to someone caught in the throes of grief, and Sasuke leaped down from his own hiding place.

**“But what he’s saying makes sense. Why would Aizen write something like that?”**

_‘It’s something we’ll have to figure out later.’_

**“You listen, I’ll talk. You think maybe the letter was forged?”**

Sasuke withdrew Kurayami no Mitsu, landing just before Kira. “Uchiwa?” He ignored the man for the moment, running for the other two in the area. Hitsugaya was dodging her blows, which were too sloppy to be of any real effect.

“I… I… I don’t know… what to do anymore… Shiro-chan…”

“Hinamori…” Sasuke knew the Captain wouldn’t be able to attack her with any real force. Their bond hindered him too much. She screamed, the sound itself pure agony, and swung again, but this time Sasuke was there to block it. It didn’t take much effort; tears were streaming down her face, and Sasuke wasn’t even sure she saw him. Yet the sheer force of the blow, sent a gust of energy spiraling out around the, and Hitsugaya leaped back.

_‘She’s not thinking rationally.’_

**“Hitsugaya should be able to talk sense into her, but she needs time to calm down.”**

It was a rational thought, and Sasuke glanced back at the Captain, sure the man would respond in kind, but it seemed a different train of thought was going in his head, because his eyes were trained on the Captain of the Third.

“I see. This, too…? Was this all your doing, too?! _Ichimaru!”_ Rage washed over Hitsugaya’s face, hand reaching back to draw Hyorinmaru.

“Damn,” Sasuke cursed, muttering under his breath, “Not him too.”

His moment of distraction cost, as Hinamori escaped his grasp, leaping up towards Hitsugaya with a resigned look on her face. Hitsugaya pushed her aside in an attempt to save them both, and thankfully Sasuke was close enough to catch her before she hit the wood.

“Hinamori!”

“I’ve got her,” Sasuke laid her down, reaching to grasp Kurayami no Mitsu once more from where he’d stuck the blade into the ground.

**“Her hands are bleeding.”** It was Mitsu that spoke this time, and when the former shinobi reached down to pick up one of her hands, his own came away stained with droplets of blood.

“Oh, my. That was cruel, Tenth Division Captain. The girl was hurt and so desperate. Why hit her so hard?” Sasuke’s head moved so hard he popped his neck, staring in wide-eyed fury at Captain Ichimaru. The man looked positively _gleeful_ , and all Sasuke could see was snake eyes and long, dark hair.

“What are you after?” Hitsugaya’s words snapped him out of the flashback, the Captain’s face a picture of cold hatred. “I’ll never forget what you said back then.” His voice shook with it, and the hairs on Sasuke’s neck stood on end. “So Aizen wasn’t enough for you. You even had to hurt Hinamori this bad… To make her grip her sword so hard that her hands bled…!”

“Whatever are you talking about?” Ichimaru was far too calm to not know something about what was going on. It made Sasuke sick to hear his voice.

Hitsugaya’s eyes flicked to the Vice-Captain’s, and Sasuke gave him a curt nod of affirmation at the unspoken order. (He would protect her with his life, if that’s what it came down to.) Icy reiatsu arose from around the Tenth Division Captain, and Sasuke felt something close to fear. _This_ was why he’d been made Captain.

“I told you… If you ever made Hinamori bleed, _I’d kill you_!”

“That will never do.” Both Captains reached for their zanpakuto. “Draw your sword in a place like this and I’ll be forced to stop you.” Captain Ichimaru’s reiatsu levels rose to meet Hitsugaya’s, and Sasuke quickly sheathed his own blade to pick up Hinamori, bringing her to a safer distance.

Across the soon-to-be battlefield, Kira stood behind his Captain. Hitsugaya disappeared with a shunpo, reappearing to bring his blade down before Ichimaru. The man dodged, and the blade hacked open the wood before it was flicked back up for another attempt.

Sasuke watched in poorly hidden awe; a battle between Captains wasn’t something one would get to see often, and it was obvious from watching that it would be dangerous to continue staying anywhere near their vicinity. But he couldn’t stop watching.

Hitsugaya released an immense amount of spiritual pressure, and Sasuke knew he should stop this now, before it went any further, but he also knew interfering would be suicide.

“I see…” Ichimaru flung the chain off of his blade. “I shouldn’t have underestimated you… Hitsugaya Toshiro. Or I’ll end up regretting it afterwards.” The man was still grinning, and Sasuke didn’t think he’d be surprised if a forked tongue flicked out of the man’s mouth.

“No, not so fast…” For the first time, the smile slid off of Ichimaru’s face, and Sasuke began a quiet chant for Bakudo #39, _Enkosen._ Hopefully, it would protect Hinamori (and him) from what was going to happen next. “…because your true regret begins now…! You pushed me to it. Regret this in full!” Hitsugaya stood, the reiatsu leaking off of him increasing exponentially. The Captain leaped up, blade poised, and ice began to form along it. “ _Reign over the frosted sky! Hyorinmaru!”_

The sky above them turned dark with overhanging clouds that formed from the zanpakuto’s sheer abilities, a dragon of ice swirling in the air around Hitsugaya. It went careening down towards Ichimaru, water and ice flooding the grounds. Sasuke brought _Enkosen_ up just in time, the water parting around them in a tidal wave, freezing where it landed. Even that wasn’t quite enough, however, as enough got past the Bakudo to freeze parts of his body to the ground. His body acted as a barrier, avoiding Hinamori, though barely. From somewhere across the ice, he heard Kira scream.

Ichimaru looked relatively unaffected, aside from the torn sleeve of his shihakusho, but it wasn’t for long, as the dragon went in for another attack. It was successfully stopped, but Sasuke’s eyes widened as his gaze went from what was evidently a distraction to Hitsugaya, the chain of his zanpakuto wrapped around the ice-encased arm of Ichimaru. The man himself looked equally surprised, and from elsewhere, Kira shouted, “Captain!”

“It’s over! Ichimaru!”

“ _Pierce his flesh… Shinso!”_

Sasuke knew Hitsugaya had been caught off guard, but Ichimaru wasn’t looking at his opponent. The man stared right at him—at Hinamori—and Sasuke tried to unsheathe his blade (either of them), but the ice had frozen it to the sheath. He cursed, trying to break off the ice, but as he finally unsheathed Kurayami no Mitsu, Sasuke looked back up to see that blade far, far too close.

“Hinamori! Uchiwa!”

Sasuke’s eyes widened as Matsumoto was there, blocking Shinso with her own blade.

“Matsumoto…!”

She was struggling to hold back Ichimaru’s attack, but she was calm and collected. “Forgive me, sir! I was returning to my quarters as ordered, but I sensed Hyorinmaru’s spiritual pressure and came back. Please sheathe your sword, Captain Ichimaru.” The man wasn’t smiling, nor did he immediately do as she requested. “If you do not… I shall engage you from here.” For a moment, he looked almost upset, but that smile returned to his face a moment later, even if his brows were still furrowed unkindly.

But Shinso retracted, and Matsumoto breathed a silent sigh of relief as Ichimaru turned away.

“Wait, Ichimaru!” Hitsugaya whirled on the man, traces of anger still lining his frame.

“Instead of coming after me, look after the Vice-Captain of the Fifth Division.” He shunpoed away after that, leaving the other Captain to reluctantly sheathe his blade, jumping from the roof to join them. Matsumoto sheathed her own zanpakuto—Sasuke noted the cracks left from the point of impact from Shinso—and both members of the Tenth turned to him and Hinamori. Hitsugaya immediately turned to his childhood friend whilst Matsumoto helped Sasuke break free from the ice still encasing his form, nearly falling when he tried to stand.

**“You’ve traces of frostbite.”** Mitsu explained as he tried again, this time taking more care.

“Are you alright, Sasuke?” Matsumoto’s eyes danced over him concernedly, but Sasuke brushed her off. His injuries were of little concern for the moment.

“Fine. We should take Hinamori to the Fourth.”

 

* * *

 

 

The Fourth Division member had finally left, and Sasuke nearly groaned in relief. All he’d wanted to do was to deal with the frostbite, but then they’d taken notice of his arm and started fussing over his shoulder. It took a thinly veiled threat to get the girl to scurry off at last. She’d think that having her Captain look at it mean there was nothing for her to do, but that line of reasoning hadn’t stopped her.

“Are you alright?” Sasuke looked up at the Captain of the Tenth Division leaning against the doorway as he pulled up the sleeve of his shihakusho. He wasn’t a fan of people seeing if they didn’t have to—his scars were pretty ugly, after all, and it always led to unwanted questions—but it wasn’t Hitsugaya’s first time seeing them, and Sasuke doubted it’d be the last. Thankfully, he hadn’t ever asked. (They had a mutual respect that way.)

“Yes.” Grunted Sasuke, pulling himself to his feet and only feeling a mild ache and the pull of bandages. A marked improvement, to say the least.

“I’m sorry you got caught up in that.” Sasuke shrugged his good shoulder noncommittally, and Hitsugaya seemed to struggle with himself for a moment before speaking again. “Thank you. For keeping Hinamori safe.”

Sasuke sighed, grabbing Kurayami no Mitsu and the Itachi no Kinen, putting both back in their proper place at his waist. “She’s my friend too.” He admitted, though rather grudgingly. (There was no way he’d say that to her face.) “The execution has been moved to tomorrow.”

“That’s the other reason I’m here,” Sasuke turned to him with an inquisitive look. It was met by one set in determined resolve, much like Abarai’s face before he’d broken out of his cell. “If the Sokyoku is really what he’s truly after, then we must stop the execution.”

“…You want me to help you.”

“Will you?”

Sasuke didn’t need to answer that. They both already knew what he was going to say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So for those asking, I’m not planning any romances due both to everyone asking for different pairings, and the fact that I want to remain as close to the canon as possible—outside of any changes Sasuke’s presence may have, of course. That’s part of the reason why there’s not too much interference as of now with this particular arc, since I still need Aizen to do his thing and all that, as it’s kinda necessary for Ichigo to be integrated into Soul Society and all. After this arc, though, we can start the fun stuff. ;)  
> (Also, yes, I am aware of Orihime’s ability to heal Sasuke’s arm. I can assure you I’ll be making use of that, but as of right now, they’re still technically enemies.)


	12. A Reason to Want Power

**6 August, 2001**

Captain Ukitake already knew what was going to happen. And what Sasuke was going to do. (What they were both going to do.)

Just before he left the barracks, Ukitake turned to him with the saddest smile he’d seen since Vice-Captain Kaien’s death. “Be careful, Sasuke.”

Sasuke realized he was getting far too fond of this man. “You too, sir.”

He met up with Captain Hitsugaya and Vice-Captain Matsumoto, but no words were exchanged. They didn’t have much time.

They had hardly left the barracks when a pillar of fiery reiatsu arose from the hill.

_‘The Sokyoku.’_

“We don’t have much time. Let’s hurry.” Hitsugaya broke them out of their awe with hurried steps and a hurried voice, racing off down the winding streets of Seireitei.

They took a detour, stopping at Hinamori’s hospital room.

“How is she?”

“Sleeping,” Hitsugaya glanced at the two of them resignedly, eyes tired, before placing a _Kyomon_ on the room.

“Why a barrier on this room?” Matsumoto watched, but her Captain seemed unconcerned with her worry. Sasuke already knew the reason; it was something he would’ve done himself.

“I can’t predict who is going to move how. This is to protect her from any enemies.” Sasuke tried to ignore the crease in Hitsugaya’s brow. It was foreboding, and seeing Hinamori in that hospital bed sent a bad feeling crawling up his spine. “Let’s go.”

They took off again, not stopping even as spiritual pressure spiked from Kurosaki and Captain Kuchiki.

“Now that the situation has become this complicated, we have to try to control the matter by making a direct appeal to our superiors.”

Matsumoto pursed her lips in light displeasure for a moment. “Do you mean to tell them about the incident with Captain Aizen?”

“Yeah… Especially about what really happened… Let’s hurry!” They broke into shunpo, leaping onto the rooftops.

They were getting close to their destination when Sasuke’s head whipped around at a sudden rise in spiritual pressure—not from the Sokyoku, but from Captain-level Shinigami, across the Seireitei. Of them all, however, the Captain-Commander’s stood out above the rest, both Captain Kyoraku and Captain Ukitake’s own rising up in response.

Hitsugaya eyed him knowingly. “If you wish to go to him, go. I won’t stop you.” Sasuke hesitated; he wanted to. He wanted to see Kyoraku fight with his true ability, wanted to see the reason the old man was the strongest Shinigami in Seireitei. (He wanted to help his Captain.) But he knew what he needed to do, where he needed to be. And it wasn’t there.

“I wouldn’t be of any help.” He shook his head, pushing ahead of Hitsugaya. “We need to move faster.”

Sasuke was one of the fastest at shunpo, second probably only to Soifon. (He might even have joined the onmitsukudo if the woman didn’t distrust him so much.) The distance between him and the Tenth Division members only grew as Kurosaki’s reiatsu spiked higher than before, higher than it ever had. Sasuke shoved the thought to the back of his mind, the feel of a bankai far too familiar to be a stranger’s. He would think about it later, when everything was over.

Sasuke reached the gate first, looking around with brows creased in thought. There was no one guarding the front gate. Not a person in sight—not even a body. He pushed open the first gate, sensing Hitsugaya and Matsumoto land behind him.

**“Where is everyone?”**

“…Let’s find out.”

He reached to push open the second gate, but it refused to budge. Hitsugaya and Matsumoto both turned questioningly to him, but a hand of his own on the door gave the Captain his answer.

“It’s closed from the inside.” He sent a look to the two Vice-Captains, who both stepped back as Hitsugaya straightened into perfect posture. The slight furrow of his brows disappeared as the stern, Captain’s expression slid over his face. “This is Captain Hitsugaya of the Tenth Division! It’s a matter of utmost importance! Requesting permission to enter the Central 46!”

Blades slid in place before the door, effectively barring their entrance.

Sasuke rose a brow. “The emergency defense lock is working…” Matsumoto muttered, her Captain murmuring an affirmative, eyes flicking over the door analytically.

“That’s even stranger…” He went even further into thought, a hand cupping his chin as his eyes glazed over. “What’s going on?”

“What should we do?” Matsumoto was looking at Hitsugaya, who was still in thought, so neither saw Sasuke unsheathe Kurayami no Mitsu, one well-placed blow slicing both the defense lock and the door to pieces. The stone crumbled, leaving a hole big enough for them to fit through. “Sasuke! This is the door to Central 46! Doing something like this…”

But her Captain interrupted her, the furrow in his brows returning, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “The alarm hasn’t gone off.”

“Someone’s trying to keep things quiet.” Sasuke ran inside first, Hitsugaya right behind him. It took Matsumoto a moment to catch up to the idea running through both genius’s heads, but she was following soon after into the dark corridor.

Their footsteps were eerie, echoing quietly throughout the building as they ran down towards the chambers. Sasuke eventually gave up on civility, jumping down entire flights ahead of the other two.

**“They’re going to question you on that later. You know even most Shinigami can’t jump those heights.”**

_‘This is more important right now. We can just attribute it to special training.’_

As such, he was the first to enter the room, stopping short of the iron scent lingering in the air.

_It was unusually quiet at this time of day. Normally, the clamor of people closing up shop and heading home for the night could be heard, along with the noise the children made as they were eventually herded inside._

It wasn’t as strong, not nearly, but rather mixed with the musty smell of an old, closed off room. Ancient ruins. A house’s unused attic. A crypt.

_There was something wrong._

It was dark inside, but as he stepped forward, a dim light made it clear enough to see the limp, pale bodies of the Central 46.

_There was blood_ everywhere. _He gagged as his eyes caught sight of a limp arm hanging out of a doorway._

Every single member had been slaughtered, their bodies not quite beginning to rot. Sasuke’s legs felt heavy, but there was a strange sense of calm that washed over him as he moved forward to inspect the bodies, a sensation that had him dissociating from the entire situation.

The blood was blackened, some places cracked, and bits flaked off when he ran his hand across it. He reached his senses back, but Hitsugaya and Matsumoto still had another flight of stairs to go before they reached him.

Half-formed ideas were already beginning to form in his head about what happened. After martial law had been declared, the entire place had been put under lockdown. No one entered, and no one left. But until the three of them had broken in, there had been no sign of a forced entry.

**“Meaning someone had to have done this before martial law.”**

“But how far back?” Sasuke murmured, eyes narrowed and mind whirling with the possibilities. “Something this big couldn’t have been done alone.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to be here, Sasuke.” Sasuke’s head whipped up at the familiar voice, eyes widening in barely concealed anger at the blond head staring impassively down at him.

“Kira, what the hell happened?” He growled, just in time for Hitsugaya and Matsumoto to come rushing in. It only took Hitsugaya a few moments to no doubt come to similar conclusions as Sasuke had.

“Kira, did you do this?” The Vice-Captain’s eyes narrowed down at them for a moment, before he turned and disappeared through the doorway. “After him!” The three of them went sprinting up the staircase, skirting around the bodies of the Central 46. Kira was always a few steps ahead, and even with Sasuke’s superior speed, the twists and turns had him pausing often enough to search that he couldn’t quite catch up. Kira led them back out the chambers and through the broken gate, glancing back occasionally, almost as if…

**“He wants us to follow him. Sasuke.”**

Sasuke paused, hesitating long enough for the other two to race ahead after Kira. He could feel Kurayami’s spirit pulling at his mind, trying to hold him back. “What are you doing? We’ll lose him!” Sasuke growled, but at his zanpakuto’s urging he glanced back towards the broken door once more. That bad feeling returned, claws scratching at his spine.

He glanced back towards the place where Kira had ran off, trying still to pair that cold, uncaring face to the too-nice kid from the Academy.

**“Sasuke, someone followed you inside. And it wasn’t Izuru.”**

And when Sasuke thought back on it, Kurayami was right. He was a shinobi, a master of stealth. Even if they’d been hiding their spiritual pressure, he should’ve noticed. But he’d been too preoccupied, too focused on the immediate situation to take proper notice of his surroundings. It was a rookie mistake.

He raced back through the doorway, jumping back down the flights of stairs. He was being reckless, and he knew it. He was moving too fast; he remembered the feeling from back in the village. It felt like a million years ago, sneaking into the woods early in the mornings, running as fast as he could until he crashed or lost his footing. And it was the same thing all over again. Sasuke tripped, missed a step, and went skidding down several steps. Had he landed any other way, he might’ve broken something. But all he could do at that moment was curse at the time wasted regaining his footing and picking his speed back up, and he continued moving too fast down the stairs, flying past the Central 46 chambers.

The further he moved into the chambers, the worse that bad feeling got. Those scratching claws scraped agitatedly at his bones with increasing fury as he passed the bodies of the Central 46, and as he moved through a corridor they found a grip in the ridges of his spine.

It led him to the Seijoto Kyorin, the living quarters of the Central 46, and those claws had sunken themselves into the marrow, and every part of him felt on edge. Sasuke withdrew Kurayami no Mitsu, fingers continually adjusting themselves along the grip. He didn’t feel like he belonged. Like he should be somewhere else—anywhere else—and someone should be in his place. His eyes darted around the too-large, too-dark room as he crept forward, ears straining to hear even the softest breath. There was a home right in front of him, one of the living quarters, and it was dark.

There was someone there that shouldn’t be. Someone that shouldn’t be _anywhere_.

He found the doorway just as he heard a body drop to the floor.

“Let’s go, Gin.”

“Of course, Captain Aizen.”

The thoughts that normally clamored in his head—flashbacks, Kurayami, work, his own—everything, it all went utterly silent.

_Jirou groaned as the creature bit into the already mutilated flesh of his shoulder, fingers twitching around the broken remains of a blade. His eyes fluttered, staring at Sasuke. He was still alive._

“Oh? It would seem we have an uninvited guest.”

Previously warm brown eyes stared down at him with a mild amusement, cold and unfitting on that face. He smiled down at the Vice-Captain, greeting him with a little wave. “Hello, Uchiwa.”

“Captain… Aizen…?” But Sasuke’s eyes kept drifting past the two men to the body on the floor.

The man was too pleasant, his words too genial for their meaning. “Oh, I didn’t mean for you to see that. I apologize for that. Maybe I should’ve chopped her into little pieces so you couldn’t find her.”

“…For how long?” That strange sensation washed over him again, as when he found the Central 46, as if he was dissociating. But this time, the anger was still present, wrath seeping from his unsheathed blade despite the deadly calm draping itself over his shoulders.

“From the beginning. Since I became Captain.” The man smiled, and he was lower than scum. Lower than Orochimaru.

_Cold red eyes stared at him. He held hope. Weapons flew past him, tore a cut in his shoulder. Cold red eyes stared at him._

“Then all this time,” the grip on his blade was tearing into his skin. Sasuke could feel the blood that dripped down his fingers, and it helped to ground him. “You were deceiving us?”

_Everyone around him was dying. Over and over again. Father, mother. Pools of blood._

There was a cunning behind those glasses that Sasuke had never noticed before. “I never thought of it that way. It’s just that none of you understood my true identity.”

_“You’re not even worth killing.”_

There was betrayal. It flooded over him like a shock of cold water, and that calm fled from him, replaced only with the icy sting of hurt. How could he have been so complacent, so _stupid_ , as to let himself get fooled? _Again._

A guttural sound tore itself out of his throat as Sasuke whirled on the man. “ _Blind the heavens with your cry, Kurayami no Mitsu!”_

A red stripe seared itself into the midnight color of the hilt and sheath of his zanpakuto, but the tempered steel of the blade itself was a flawless white. Both Captains watched with interest as wrathful eyes went from a coal black to crimson, three tomoe revolving around the pupil. Lightning crackled down his arm and up the metal, sparking off the tip of the blade.

He hadn’t released his zanpakuto in a long, long time. It felt good.

When he swung, lightning arced off the blade, both Captains dodging with far too much grace. It only caused Sasuke’s teeth to grind, the hilt of Kurayami no Mitsu further digging into his palm. (He wouldn’t admit that not all that anger was directed at Aizen.)

Sasuke didn’t like using his zanpakuto; his release command was longer than most Shinigami, and even in its sealed state, Kurayami no Mitsu stood out as one of the only chokuto in the Court Guards. The ribbon that wrapped around the hilt had others teasing him for it back in the Academy, and upon releasing the shikai, he regained some of the sharingan’s abilities. It was unnatural.

But it gave him power.

He could see Aizen’s movements, everything around him slower than before, and when he leapt forward in another attack, he could see the way the man was going to dodge, see Hitsugaya appearing not far from them, see that manic smile arise, lips stretching out slowly.

“Uchiwa!” Hitsugaya was reaching for his zanpakuto, but there was no need. Sasuke was going to wipe that smug smile off the man’s face.

He was faster than they were; he was a shinobi, had twice the training, twice the abilities. Kurayami no Mitsu sliced cleanly through Aizen’s chest, lightning arcing off the blade to sear into the man’s body.

Aizen looked at him and smirked.

“What…?”

But he saw it, just as the sharingan flickered out of reach. An illusion. _How long had he been under an illusion?_

Aizen smiled. “Not an illusion, Uchiwa. Complete hypnosis.”

His body jerked as blood spattered across his face, but he couldn’t feel any pain. His body was in complete shock. When he collapsed, he could distantly hear voices; Hitsugaya’s, Aizen’s, Ichimaru’s, and even some others. They were shouting, but he couldn’t quite understand what they were saying. There were words, but they held no meaning.

There was only static.

His vision was fading, but he could see, just before him, Kurayami no Mitsu. His hand was still bleeding, still wrapped around the hilt. The red ribbon was wrapped around the hilt, that insufferable charm still tied to one of the tails. He normally hated the sight of it, but it seemed fitting now, somehow, that it be the last thing he saw. Konoha’s symbol stared back at him, lying in a pool of his own blood.

_“Why Itachi?”_

Sasuke remembered what it felt like to be completely powerless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of the Invasion Arc
> 
> So I gotta say people on AO3 are so positive. :) I post this on both FF and AO3, and my favorite comments have definitely come from the latter. Granted, I get more reviews from FF, but personally I prefer the shorter amount from AO3 because you guys put so much thought into them!   
> But I’m not entirely happy with the second half of this chapter. I lost motivation to finish this two nights ago because I wasted it all on the long-ass crap below. Apparently I spent so long not writing action I forgot how to write it, haha. Hopefully that will fix itself soon.
> 
>  
> 
> To answer a lot of reviews for FF though:  
> \- I will not kill off Hinamori because I do want to stick as close to canon as possible. Of course, due to that, she’ll be out of commission for a large portion of the series (and thus this story) anyway, so this’ll be the most you’ll see of her, probably.  
> \- Andromeda I injured Sasuke, are you happy? (Also people won’t be after Sasuke for just a filler. I have an entire arc after the winter war about him being a fugitive. Enjoy that in the future! :3)  
> \- I’ve explained this *a lot* for those who actually check the ANs, but Sasuke is weak right now because this isn’t the guy who survived the war!!! He’s dead, lost his memory, and the use of kido is much different from jutsu. Yes, I’ve kept Sasuke’s physical ability, and that will make a huge difference in the future, but HE HAS NO JUTSUS. SO NO. HE CANNOT TAKE ON THE ENTIRETY OF SOUL SOCIETY AND WIN. NOT NOW. (He is already a Vice-Captain, and one of the stronger ones for sure. If I were to take end of Shippuden Sasuke and put him in this story exactly as he is, I wouldn’t have a story guys. He’s gotta learn how zanpakuto work. (Which involves working together; he’s not working on his own ability anymore—another obstacle for him.) I could write a whole chapter’s worth of this explanation. Don’t make me do it. Cause I can and I will.


	13. He Had a Week to Get Orihime to Heal His Arm, and He Wasted It Training

**7 August, 2001 – 13 August, 2001**

_There was so much blood, and Sasuke didn’t think he could see straight. Kaien’s body lay before him, labored breaths the only sound inside other than that sickening noise of teeth gnawing on human flesh. It was a hollow, but at the same time it wasn’t like any hollow he had ever seen._

_It wasn’t much larger than a person, but its body bent in unnatural directions. The limbs were too long, too skinny, the spine protruding from its back. The nails that came in points like claws pierced flesh with ease. Its white mask was partially broken, likely from an earlier attack by Kaien, if the cracks and the blood coating its head were anything to go by._

_Kaien groaned as the creature bit into the already mutilated flesh of his shoulder, fingers twitching around the broken remains of his zanpakuto. His eyes were resolute, staring at Sasuke._ ‘Don’t do it.’

_Ignoring him, Sasuke tried to be completely silent, raised his blade, and the hollow turned around to face him. Where the mask had been broken he could see an eye—previously warm brown eyes that stared down at him with mild amusement, cold and unfitting on that face._

_The hollow did something that he’d thought was impossible for a skull. It grinned._

_It turned around, standing on its two legs and leaving Kaien’s body to turn towards him, all smooth movements and fake kindness._

_“None of you understood my true identity.”_

_Sasuke attacked first; bringing his blade down in a wide swing. And he should’ve hit his target—did hit it, cutting into its shoulder—but the creature ignored the weapon, as if it didn’t exist. Blood spattered across his face and his body jerked, and where pain exploded across his shoulder (but that wasn’t quite right, was it? The injury wasn’t in the shoulder, but was it? He wasn’t sure anymore) the rest of his body went numb. Soon, so did his shoulder, and he collapsed. He thought he could hear the hollow speaking, laughing; thought he could hear Kaien. But static drowned out anything else._

_His vision was fading, but he could see something staring back at him. Konoha’s symbol, lying in a pool of blood. (His blood?)_

_He heard Aizen’s voice. “You’re not even worth killing.”_

 

 

When Sasuke awoke, his eyelashes were wet. He blinked the discomfort away, staring up at the lackluster walls. They didn’t have the ceiling stains of his bedroom, but they were familiar nonetheless. Memories of defecting from Konoha were playing through his mind.

His hands clenched around the bandages that wrapped them, whole body tense and misty eyes glaring up at the white ceiling. Since when had he let himself get so complacent? Why had he forgotten why he needed power?

Why was he so _weak…?_

“Oh, you’re awake.” Sasuke turned slowly, trying to school his face back into something more normal, to see Captain Hitsugaya leaning against the doorway to his room. “They were starting to think you were dead.”

“Hitsugaya,” his eyes trailed over the bandages peeking out from under the other’s shihakusho, “What the hell happened to you?”

Hitsugaya’s face darkened, and that was all it took for Sasuke to understand. He rubbed at his aching shoulder, just above the new injuries, before sliding out of the bed to get properly dressed.

“Aizen defected,” that was nothing new, “along with Ichimaru and Kaname.” Sasuke tried not to let the surprise show, but he twitched anyways.

_‘Kaname?’_

“…I see.”

“The ryoka are still here, recovering from their injuries.” Hitsugaya paused, but Sasuke had no need to say anything. He was sure the other already understood. “You were right. He looks like Shiba Kaien.”

He didn’t want to think about that now. Didn’t want to think about the implications behind that statement. (The dream was still fresh in his mind.) “Where’s Matsumoto?”

Sasuke turned to see Hitsugaya’s annoyance as he strapped both his blades to his waist, the Captain’s façade sliding off to showcase something more familiar. “Creating a mess in my office.”

“Sake?” He smirked at the deepening scowl he received in response, but it slid off his face soon after. “…How’s Hinamori?”

Hitsugaya turned away, but Sasuke caught a glimpse of something far too familiar in that expression. “See for yourself.”

 

* * *

 

 

**“Guess who’s here~?”**

Sasuke held back a groan as a familiar presence came barreling down the road. He’d hardly left the Fourth, but his Fourth Seat was bound to send him back if she got her arms around him.

He dodged as Ojima Kanon launched herself at him, but she righted herself quickly, whirling on him with teary eyes. When she sniffled, snot retreated back up her nose before dripping back down again. “U-Uchiwa-s-senpai!! You’re alive!!” She sobbed, getting his bad arm in a death grip. He hissed when she pulled it the wrong way, but she didn’t seem to hear over her own sobbing. “I-I thought yo-you’d…”

Sighing in annoyance, Sasuke attempted to extract himself from her grasp, only partially succeeding. “Ojima, let go of me.”

“I-I’m sorry, U-Uchiwa-sen—I mean, Vice-Captain.” She sniffled, eyes red. She was acting like a child.

“Just let go.”

She jumped, finally releasing him. “O-Oh, right! S-Sorry, U-Uchiwa-sen—I mean, Vice-Captain.”

That was going to get annoying. Fast. (Scratch that, it already was. He didn’t talk to her much, but if she was going to do this every time they spoke. Why hadn’t he done something about this sooner?)

“…You don’t have to call me that.”

She was starry-eyed, and Sasuke shuddered at the memory of the Academy. “You mean, Vice-Captain?”

He sighed. “Yeah.”

“Oi, Uchiwa,” Sasuke’s brow twitched as he turned to see Kurosaki’s face staring back at them. “I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.”

Ojima’s face went as red as her hair. “G-G-Girlfriend?!”

“She’s not my girlfriend, Kurosaki.”

Ojima looked back at Sasuke with wide eyes. “Uchiwa-senpai, is this Vice-Captain Shiba and Ms. Miyako’s son?”

“Who?”

**“This looks fun.”**

Sasuke held back some rather unsavory comments as he tried to find a way to word it nicely. “No, Ojima, he’s not. This is the ryoka, Kurosaki Ichigo.” He turned to the quizzical expression on the aforementioned ryoka’s face. “Kurosaki, it’s none of your concern. This is Fourth Seat Ojima Kanon.”

Ojima jumped into a bow. “It’s an honor, Kurosaki-sama!”

“Eh? Er, there’s no need for formalities.” Sasuke’s lips twitched in amusement; Kurosaki had probably never been referred to like that before.

Ojima, on the other hand, didn’t quite seem to understand either. “Then… Ichigo-sama?”

Sasuke let the smirk take form on his face at the increasingly frustrated look on the orange-headed ryoka. “Just leave it Kurosaki; it’s a lost cause.”

“But—”

Sasuke kicked him in the shin and left.

 

* * *

 

 

“So, did you see her ribbon?”

Sasuke didn’t answer, dodging a blade that nearly sliced clean through his shoulder, responding with his own swipe. Kurayami flipped away.

“Today it was green and pink with white polka dots.”

They clashed once more, and Sasuke growled at the tittering, slinging with more fury than before. Kurayami blocked him, the two in a standstill for several seconds.

“I still don’t think we’ve seen the same ribbon twice.”

Sasuke jumped back, swinging once more with one hand as the other went around with a kunai. Kurayami blocked both, kicking at Sasuke’s feet and knocking him off-balance. He sliced again, aiming for the neck, but Sasuke took the attack in stride, dropping all the way down, the blade snatching a few strands from his head. Using his left hand holding the kunai as leverage—and how he loved being able to use both arms, even if it was just in his inner world—he kicked the kunai out of Kurayami’s hands, pushing with his arm to send his body up and out of range of the other’s blade.

“I mean, unless she’s making new ones out of the old ones.”

Kurayami gave him no time to recover, launching himself forward and sweeping in for another attack, the ring of metal clashing on metal resounding in his ears.

“What number does that make it?”

Sasuke held off the chokuto with his own, swiping at the spirit with the kunai. Kurayami leaned back, just out of range of the weapon’s tip, but Sasuke wasn’t done, bringing his leg up to follow with smooth movements. His foot connected with the blonde’s shoulder, sending him stumbling, but he didn’t quite fall, recovering quickly enough to block Sasuke’s next attack.

“496?”

Sasuke growled at him. “Shut _up_ , Kurayami.”

He pushed forward, relentless in his attacks, trying to make the zanpakuto _shut up._ They locked into a standstill, Sasuke not giving up, trying to push forward, overpower him. Kurayami stared back, sharingan swirling. Red eyes. Cold. Dying.

“-suke? Sasuke!”

Kurayami was staring at him, face far too close and in his personal space. Sasuke growled at him, pushing him out of the way. It was clear they weren’t sparring anymore, if the other’s empty hands were anything to go by.

“You blanked for a minute there.”

“I’m fine.”

Kurayami’s brows furrowed. They both knew he was lying, but since when had that stopped him?

“You’ve never done that before. What the hell man?”

Sasuke stepped away, turned, flourished his blade with one hand. Electricity crackled along the steel. “ _It was nothing_. Come on.”

Kurayami stared at him for a minute, before pouting and crossing his arms as he flopped to the ground, legs crossed beneath him. “No,” he replied petulantly. Sasuke watched this spectacle incredulously. This was supposed to be _his_ zanpakuto, not Naruto’s, right?

“The hell? I can’t get any stronger if we don’t fight!” His voice came out low and animalistic, surprising even him for a moment.

Kurayami scowled back at him. “And it’s back to power, power, power! Well, guess what? I’m done!” The bastard had the audacity to pull a face at him before turning around so that his back was facing Sasuke. “Go train by yourself!”

Sasuke’s brow twitched. (He was so done with this little shit right now.) “Fine,” he bit out, and opened his eyes to the courtyard outside the Thirteenth Division barracks. Some subordinates were watching him with curiosity; he glared, and they went scurrying off.

_‘Damn it.’_

 

* * *

 

 

“Abarai,” Sasuke rose a brow at the sight of the redhead. With all the chaos, they hadn’t really spoken since that night with the prison bars separating them.

“Sasuke,” The man’s brow twitched, “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Likewise,” Sasuke muttered, eyes scanning the Eleventh Division’s training hall. It had been very quickly vacated, with the exception of the two Vice-Captains and a dozen unconscious men spread out around the expansive room.

**“Is the Eleventh really the strongest in Seireitei? Between this and Ichigo, I’m starting to doubt their competence.”**

_‘No kidding.’_

The somewhat annoyed look on Abarai’s face morphed into a grin as his eyes lit up maliciously. “Since you’re here, I think this is a good time for a rematch.” He didn’t toss the wooden blade in hand so much as threw it at Sasuke like a spear. Sasuke caught it with ease, flipping it around so he could get a proper hold on it.

If Abarai was asking to get his ass kicked, who was he to refuse?

“Suit yourself.”

Sasuke took position across from Abarai after moving one of the bodies of the Eleventh out of the way, propping the Itachi no Kinen and his zanpakuto against the wall beside Abarai’s Zabimaru. Abarai had definitely gotten stronger compared to the last time they’d done this; but then, so had Sasuke.

Abarai attacked first, lunging forward with a raised blade and a guttural shout. Sasuke knew he was weaker than Abarai physically—the guy had been a part of the Eleventh for good reason, after all—but he was faster, more agile, more flexible, and more cunning. (And smarter, but that was so obvious it wasn’t even worth mentioning.)

He sidestepped the attack, using his own blade to redirect it away from his body as he jabbed the tip forward. Abarai jumped back as Sasuke’s weapon came a mere hair’s breadth away from his nose, readying his stance once more. Let it never be said that Abarai wasn’t a fast learner, however, (he wasn’t a Vice-Captain for nothing) as when he attacked again, he aimed for Sasuke’s left side, knowing full well it was his weak point. Sasuke twisted his body, bringing the bokken around to block the attempt.

“You think I haven’t learned to compensate for my weaknesses?” Sasuke scowled at the redhead for the slight, even as the man returned the look with a sharp grin.

“Just repaying the favor.”

With all the honed reflexes of a veteran, Abarai jerked his wooden blade back, arm folding in as he switched hands before snapping his other arm straight, jabbing Sasuke in the shoulder before he could bring his blade back up from the awkward position.

Pain jolted along his clavicle and down his arm, and with that half second of hesitation, Abarai struck the side of his leg, bringing him to one knee the way he’d done back in the Academy. The redhead grinned, placing the tip of the bokken against Sasuke’s neck.

“Guess the tables have turned.” Sasuke’s eyes narrowed up at that smug face.

“Making bankai made you cocky.” His lips quirked up in an amused smirk at the sight of Abarai’s confusion, tapping the man’s ribs with his own wooden blade for emphasis. “If this were a real battle, you would’ve been cut in half the moment you struck my knee.”

“Wha—?”

Whatever indignation he’d been planning to spit out was interrupted by raucous laughter, and both Vice-Captains turned to the source of the interruption. Sasuke’s brow twitched at the sight of Kurosaki’s face as he stood (something about that face made him want to hit it, sometimes).

“He got you there, Renji,” Kurosaki chuckled some more before finally seeming to get ahold of himself, stepping out of the doorway of the room and towards them, unslinging his large zanpakuto from his back to place it beside the others. “Oi, spar with me, Sasuke.”

Sasuke glared at the wolf’s grin, tossing his bokken back towards Renji (who barely caught it, startled by the sudden action as he was) and walking past Kurosaki towards the line up of swords. “No way,” he grumbled, rubbing at the ache in his shoulder.

_‘Damn that cocky bastard.’_

Kurayami’s laughter echoed in his mind. **“He got you good.”**

_‘Shut up.’_

“Why not?” Kurosaki’s brow furrowed in frustration, and it actually made him look somewhat childish. Sasuke’s face hurt from the amount of effort it took to not outwardly roll his eyes.

_‘Because you’re a monster.’_

**“I bet you some of the other Captains have already told him that.”**

_‘Who the hell gets bankai that fast?’_

“Thanks to Abarai, my shoulder hurts like hell.”

Kurosaki blinked, apparently not understanding what that meant. “He didn’t hit that hard, did he?”

Abarai glanced at Sasuke, but he just gave the man a kind of half shrug. The man could do what he wanted; Sasuke didn’t particularly care all that much. (Kurosaki would find out one way or another.)

“His shoulder’s… messed up. Bad.” His eyes flickered towards Sasuke and away again, and Kurosaki only looked more confused.

**“Aw, he’s trying to be sensitive.”**

_‘I don’t give a flying fuck. He’s just making this more confusing.’_

“Can’t he just get it healed by Unohana or something?” Sasuke could see Abarai struggling for an explanation as he strapped his blades back to his waist.

**“You gonna rescue him?”**

_‘I’m going to rescue myself from this inane explanation.’_

“She can’t do anything. I’ve tried,” Sasuke cut in, turning to look at Kurosaki with thinly veiled annoyance. “My rotator cuff has been torn beyond repair. I’ve lost most of the movement in my left arm and shoulder.”

Kurosaki still didn’t seem to quite understand what he was saying, but he wasn’t saying anything more, brows furrowed in thought. (That earlier assessment about his brain being bigger than Naruto’s might’ve been wrong. Sasuke would have to amend that.)

Sasuke brushed past him, intent on heading back to his own division now that he’d blown off some steam. (Maybe do some individual training in their own halls.)

“Then why do you carry two swords?” Sasuke froze halfway out the door at the question. “Only one is your zanpakuto, right?” Everyone had always assumed or made their own conclusions. No one had ever asked him before; not since…

_“I’ve been wondering, Sasuke, but what’s up with the katana? I’ve never seen you use it.”_

Perhaps there was more similarity between them than just appearance.

“…It was my grandfather’s.” Kurosaki raised a brow, obviously expecting him to continue, but Sasuke left.

 

_“It was given to me by someone important.” Sasuke shrugged, though his eyes couldn’t quite stay on his Vice-Captain’s face._

_Kaien raised a brow. “Well obviously, if you still carry it around. But aren’t blades meant to be used?”_

_“…It’s not meant for senseless fighting.”_

_Kaien smiled. “Is there such a thing as senseless fighting, though? You know what the Captain told me once?”_

_He grunted noncommittally in response. Sasuke wasn’t particularly interested, but he figured he’d have to humor his superior. Kaien didn’t seem to care, continuing on anyways._

_“There are two types of combat: the fight to protect life, and the fight to protect honor. Do you think one of those is senseless?”_

(Sasuke couldn’t remember his answer.)

 

* * *

 

 

When Sasuke entered his inner world, his zanpakuto was nowhere to be seen. He sighed. Now Kurayami was avoiding him. There wasn’t a whole lot aside from forest, forest, and more forest when it came to places to look. He sighed; there wasn’t much point in looking. If he didn’t want to be found, he wouldn’t be.

Sasuke headed towards the Uchiha Compound, looking up at the walls looming above him. It had slowly been growing larger; his childhood home was no longer the only thing there. Uncle’s senbei shop was there, a path leading past buildings winding throughout. It wasn’t exact, of course. The dirt path through the Compound led to unknown places, creating a layout that was nowhere near a normal home. He passed doors that had no building, or buildings that had no doors. Some had doors but no way to open them. (He’d spent hours trying one afternoon.)

So he headed back to his own home, sliding open the door. He took his shoes off habitually, hardly glancing around at the empty home. This place haunted him—in his dreams, his memories, and even his own inner world. He couldn’t escape. He let his feet drift, let his body choose where to go.

It took him to the engawa staring out onto the courtyard, trees rising up from behind the wall.

He sat down beside the blond man already there, glancing out the corner of his eye to see the fox mask watching the garden. Mitsu was completely still, aside from the rustling of his hair in the slight breeze that was always present there. Sasuke shifted his own position, crossing his legs and closing his eyes as well.

It was a long time before they spoke again. And unlike before, when they spoke, it wasn’t Kurayami that was doing the talking.

“You want more power.”

Sasuke opened his eyes, stared at the courtyard. With Mitsu, there never was a need to explain things. He always seemed to know.

“The abilities of a Shinigami are very different than that of a shinobi.” His head tilted, mask hiding whatever expression may be on his face. Somehow, Sasuke didn’t think he’d find an expression anyway. “You realize that to some extent, but you have yet to understand what the biggest difference is.”

“Then tell me what that is.”

There was a long moment of silence before Mitsu seemed to relent in some way. (Perhaps an internal argument with Kurayami.)

“…You are not alone anymore.” Sasuke pressed his lips together, trying not to say something distasteful. Mitsu must’ve sensed something—his agitation, annoyance, _something_ —because he stood, turning to face Sasuke, drawing his blade. “Do you wish to spar?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The response to the last chapter was tremendously positive, and I gotta thank you guys for that! ^^ I’m getting a lot of people saying they really like my characterization of Sasuke. *^* Thank you, you have no idea how happy that makes me…
> 
> I was just frustrated with the same questions I’d already answered five times, and I’m sorry to the rest of you for that.  
> (On that note, though, another thing some people pointed out that I actually completely forgot about for the last two chapters; yeah, SASUKE DOESN’T HAVE THE USE OF HIS LEFT ARM. IT’S USELESS RIGHT NOW. So thank you Synchronicity911 for reminding me of that, haha.) But actually thinking about it, I’m laughing my ass off, because before last chapter, Sasuke had never actually fought neither the Shinigami nor the ryoka? So how would you even know whether he was weak? Logic guys.  
> And another thing on that, as you’ve probably seen from this chapter. In order to get stronger—particularly to bankai—shinigami need to have a strong bond with their zanpakuto, and need to communicate with them. Evidently, Sasuke has some trouble with Kurayami sometimes. (I personally see Kurayami as a lot like Sasuke’s younger self, from before the massacre. I don’t think Sasuke deals with the reminder of his own immaturities well, haha.) He and Mitsu are two peas in a pod, though, even if he doesn’t always understand the guy.
> 
> But to answer a few other questions, we won’t be seeing any Uchiha for a while yet. Particularly not Itachi. That stuff’s waaaaay down the line. Also Andromeda asked if Aizen was responsible for what happened in Fox Track. I………… can’t comment on that. Spoiler alert and all that. And to the Guest who asked about a Toshiro POV, I hadn’t even thought of that, to be honest. It actually does sound like a good idea though. This chapter, as you saw, kind of needed to be Sasuke’s POV because character growth, but I may do a chapter in his POV in the future… ;3


	14. Things May Have Changed, But Sasuke is Still Emotionally Constipated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Begin the Heart and Home arc

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the anime has a bount arc between the Invasion/Betrayal thing and the intro to the arrancar/visored. I wasn’t a huge fan of that arc, and it *was* anime only, so I thought I’d have my own arc in that month time instead of a timeskip! :3 We’ll be answering some loose threads left from the Fox Track arc…

**20 August, 2001 – 21 August, 2001**

_Ishii Asuka sat slumped against her stall, her baby—now nothing more than a pile of flesh and blood—still in her arms. She used to sell him fruits, even gave him one for free on occasion. Anna had spoken to her often. The two were good friends._

_Nori, Hironori, Aika, and Madoka all lay in a wayward pile in the corner of an alleyway connected to the main street. Their bodies were mutilated at various degrees, but their faces were all intact, staring up at him in cold terror, mouths open, as if they’d been screaming. Those bodies used to belong to Eita’s friends, the same children that would ask him to tell stories of his travels._

 

Sasuke tossed and turned, face twitching with the images that flashed through his mind.

 

_He tried to lift Asuka’s body; her baby fell out of her arms and tumbled to the ground. Despite the mutilation of the child, Sasuke still half-expected it to give out a cry, a whimper, something that indicated it to still be alive. There was only silence._

_He carried Asuka’s body back to the field and placed her in the grave. He started to bury her, pushing the dirt back into the ground, but paused. He left briefly, and came back with what he could gather of her baby’s remains, placing it into the grave with her. Then he buried them both._

_He found Momoka hidden in the back room of her home, covered in bloodied futons and clutching Fumio in her arms. Their dog Ken lay before them, no doubt in an attempt to protect them. He wondered briefly if she had tried to scream._

 

He shuddered, cold fingers that gripped his spine.

 

_Madoka’s head looked at him accusingly._

 

Breathing came hard for him, in little shallow gasps.

 

_He found two more corpses, hidden away in the back of an unused building at the edge of town. Genji and Anna were huddled in a dark and dusty corner. Genji had a large, fatal gash in his back; Anna’s face was smeared with dirt and dried tears. The old man had his back to the danger, holding the mother in his arms. Even to his last breath, he protected her with everything he had._

_Sasuke realized, as the last of Genji’s face was covered with dirt, that he had never told the man thank you for all he’d done. He waited to bury Anna and did another sweep of the village. Mio was nowhere to be found. He apologized to Anna when he buried her._

 

Brows furrowed, teeth grinding against each other.

 

_The man led the way amidst the trees, stepping carefully at every turn. “Now, the key here is patience. If you’re too impatient, your catch will escape you.” He stopped, unsheathed the knife. “I’ll teach you how to set traps after we get something to eat. And then I can show you how to skin your catch and cook it.”_

_Sasuke watched the man peer through the trees._

_“Why are you teaching me this?”_

_Genji didn’t respond for a few moments, but when he did Sasuke could catch a glimpse of his weary smile in the scattered sunlight._

_“I know you’ve been training when you think we aren’t looking. You spend more time outside the village than in it, not counting your hours at Jirou’s place. If you want to travel, Sasuke, travel. If you want to leave and never come back, then leave. But I’m not going to let you go out there on your own and get yourself killed because you don’t know how to take care of yourself.” He looked back for a brief moment, held his gaze, and Sasuke looked away, feeling guilty for some unfathomable reason. “I know you don’t think of us as a family, but you’re family to us. I just hope that you find the people that mean family to you.”_

 

Sasuke turned over again, eyelids twitching.

 

_Jirou shook his head, slowly, with only the barest movement. Sasuke’s mouth opened and closed in desperation, trying to find something to say. The focus left Jirou’s eyes. Eventually, so did the light._

 

Sasuke roused into wakefulness slowly, blinking lazily at the sunlight streaming onto his face from the window. It was quiet, aside from the birds outside, and Sasuke rubbed a hand over his face. He was tired, and despite how much more he’d been sleeping lately, it felt as if he hadn’t slept in days.

Nonetheless, he had work to do (and if he got it done quickly enough, he could take a nap). He dressed efficiently, with only a few extra movements to compensate for his arm. He stepped outside his home, breathing in the crisp air of the morning. The sun hadn’t quite risen, still sitting lazily on the horizon, and the heat of the summer was still a couple hours away. More importantly, it was quiet, the majority of the division not having awoken yet.

Sasuke arrived at the barracks in record time, making sure to walk past the rooms quietly so as to avoid waking anyone. He went through his morning stretches and warm up exercises in the courtyard before joining the rest of the division for breakfast, greeting a few with a nod as he sat down. The Captain was absent, though that wasn’t an unusual occurrence.

It was shaping up to be a rather boring day—as it had been since the ryoka had left—but there was something… wrong. A feeling that made his gut churn, and Sasuke sighed in annoyance at the rather unappealing sight of food.

The rest of the day went similarly.

Everything Sasuke did seemed off, unappealing. He didn’t want to spar with Kurayami, and the idea of heading to the Eleventh to put those lugs in their place left a bad taste in his mouth. Eventually, it seemed even the mostly absent Captain noticed.

Sasuke was in the middle of finishing up the last bit of paperwork—the Third Seats often overstepped their boundaries, but if they were that willing to do paperwork, Sasuke wasn’t complaining—when Ukitake stepped into the office.

He was paler than he’d been yesterday, smiling wanly at Sasuke as he sat down on the couch across from the desk. It was large, and the man sunk into it. (But this was the couch that Sasuke had spent an entire paycheck on not long after he’d been promoted for naps. With the Captain out of commission most of the time, he spent more time than anyone else in that office, and he was going to decorate it as he pleased.)

“Are you alright, Sasuke?”

Sasuke tried not to react, focusing on the paperwork. For someone who was never around, he was surprisingly perceptive about people, especially his subordinates. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

He glanced over the pages at the man’s face, eyes flitting back down before they could make eye contact. Ukitake looked… worried. But he didn’t say anything outright, that flash of worry hidden behind a fatherly smile.

“You look tired. Why don’t you take a break? I can finish the rest of the paperwork.”

This time Sasuke stared at the man skeptically, taking in his appearance fully for the first time that day. Aside from the pallor of his skin, the Captain looked haggard, his attire rumpled from sleep and his hair not quite as neat as it usually was. Dark circles decorated his eyes—not that Sasuke was much better in that regard, though—and the sallow skin crinkled at the corners of his eyes. Normally those made him look kind, fatherly even; now, they only added to his age.

“You need the rest more than I do.”

Ukitake laughed, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “Oh, was it that obvious?”

Sasuke was moments away from calling for Captain Kyoraku to drag this man back to bedrest when the Third Seats came skidding into the room, bowing profusely, heads practically banging into the floor with the force of their dogeza.

“WE APOLOGIZE FOR INTERRUPTING YOUR VERY IMPORTANT CONVERSATION, CAPTAIN, VICE-CAPTAIN!”

“WE APOLOGIZE FOR BARGING IN SO RUDELY, BUT THIS IS A MATTER WE THOUGHT OF UTMOST IMPORTANCE!”

Kotsubaki whirled on Kiyone. “HEY! You’re copying me!”

She turned right back on him. “I am _not!!_ You’re the one copying me!”

They squabbled for another minute before Sasuke set down the brush in his hand, turning irritably to the two Third Seats and grousing, “Get to the point.”

They both shut up then, turning and bowing and apologizing again, though with the irritable look on Sasuke’s face, they continued their report rather quickly.

“Sir! A child snuck into Seireitei!”

Sasuke’s brows drew together in a mix of both frustration and confusion. “Why are you telling me this? And what idiot let a child past them anyways?”

Both Kiyone and Kotsubaki glanced at each other, before Kiyone replied in an unusually timid tone of voice, “Well, she says your sister.”

“I don’t have a sister.” His answer was curt, and Sasuke was intent on finishing up with the paperwork when Kotsubaki continued.

“Vice-Captain, sir, she says she’s from Fox Track.”

The two didn’t have a chance to move before Sasuke was out of his seat, haphazardly strapping his blades to his belt as he practically flew out of the room. He didn’t need to ask where the kid was being kept. He could sense it, when he reached out, could feel the unusual gathering of Captain-level spiritual pressures—and, beneath it all, that of a civilian.

He’d dismissed it initially, thinking it just a routine Captain’s meeting (that was today, after all, though Captain Ukitake had been confined to bedrest). But…

 

Sasuke stopped abruptly at the base of the stairs leading to the hall, staring up at the two large doors at which the guards were standing watch. He wasn’t entirely sure why, but there was a weight in his chest, overflowing and building up in his throat and behind his eyes. It weighed him down, added extra weight to his body that his legs couldn’t take. It took immense effort for him to take even a single step. Something was holding him back.

And that was when the great doors opened, the Captains within streaming out. He was sure a few were speaking to him, asking questions, but the world was drowned out at the child standing at the top of the stairs, staring back at him.

Her head was covered in bright red hair that curled around her cheeks and tickled the nape of her neck. Her young face, only just entering preteen years, was bright and pretty. Her skin was an ivory color, almost flawless if not for the three claw marks that scarred her left leg, only partially hidden by her clothing. Her yukata was just a size too small, brushing at her shins and forearms, the pretty wave pattern faded with time and use and dust. And her bright eyes became brighter, and that was all Sasuke saw before she launched herself down the stairs, falling towards him.

The weight that had been holding him in place disappeared, and he felt weightless as he took a step forward, catching her before she could make a wrong landing. She had a strong grip, holding him in place as her fingers fisted into the cloth of his shihakusho. The girl’s shoulders shook with the force of her sobs, leaving Sasuke at a loss. He didn’t know how to handle crying girls, and he could feel the stare of several Captains pinning him down now.

An old memory came to him then, and with a sigh (something a mix of nostalgia and reluctance), he reached out with his right hand, placing it atop the girl’s curly red locks in what was definitely a poor attempt at comfort. Her hands moved at his own action to encircle his waist in a tight hug, as if he would disappear if she let go.

He didn’t speak until she had calmed down some, muffled wails dying down into sniffles and a light trembling of the shoulders.

“…You’re Mio, aren’t you,” he asked, voice quiet, mindful of their audience. She didn’t make any sort of response aside from a slight nod, face still buried in his shihakusho.

_He waited to bury Anna and did another sweep of the village. Mio was nowhere to be found. He apologized to Anna when he buried her._

He had a lot of questions; but they would have to wait. (He could feel the curious gazes, feel the razor sharp look of Soifon at his back.) And from the looks of things—he glanced up at the top of the stairs, where the Captain-Commander was—she’d already been asked quite a lot of questions.

**“They’re going to ask you a lot later too.”**

_‘I know.’_

 

* * *

 

 

Sasuke may not have dealt well with kids, but he did know someone who loved them. Which was how he’d found himself at the Ugendo with Mio, trying not to seem as irritated as he was explaining the situation to his Captain.

“…Which is why I’m asking if you’ll watch her for me. I’m sure the Third Seats would love to help as well.”

He’d already been delivered the message; the Captain-Commander wanted a word with him.

Ukitake looked far too delighted. “I still don’t see why you can’t take her with you. I’m sure Mio-chan would love it if you took her on a tour of Seireitei as well.”

Mio, for her part, was staying dutifully quiet at Sasuke’s side, hands absentmindedly playing with Sasuke’s left hand. At Ukitake’s words, however, she perked up, just a little. Sasuke glanced at her from his periphery, sighing in frustration at the hopeful look in her eyes.

“Orders from the Captain-Commander. I don’t want her to be interrogated more than she already has been.” The old Captain’s expression softened at his words, and Sasuke’s brow twitched. This was causing more trouble than it was worth. He rose from his seated position, Mio making a small distressed noise as his hand was pulled from her grasp, looking up at him.

“Sasuke-nii?”

Sasuke twitched at the address, but nonetheless gave her a brief, somewhat callous pat on the head. “I’ll be back. Stay with Ukitake.”

He made to leave, then, when his shoulder gave a painful twinge. He paused, looked back at the girl with the tight grasp on his wrist. She looked unusually desperate, and Sasuke’s brows drew together in confusion (and, though he won’t admit it, concern).

“I just need to talk to the Captain-Commander. I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

She didn’t let go; if anything, her grip tightened.

“But…” she looked on the verge of tears again, “We have to go. You have to go help Eita-nii.”

Those words effectively stopped him, and Sasuke turned fully to face Mio. “What happened?”

She sniffled, bright eyes evidently trying in vain to hold back tears. “He’s sick.”

 

* * *

 

 

Unfortunately, there wasn’t much Sasuke could do to avoid the coming interrogation, and so it was that the Captain-Commander was staring at him ( _through_ him), arms folded atop his table. Mio was just outside, waiting, and that knowledge only made the Vice-Captain more anxious to get this over with.

“You asked to see me, sir?”

Yamamoto was silent for a long time before he spoke. He didn’t dress it up, only went straight to the point. “What happened that night, 52 years ago?”

Sasuke kept his explanation brief and to the point. Why he wasn’t there, why he’d returned, what he’d seen, what he’d fought. Last night’s dream was still very much present in his mind, and he had to pause, collect himself and banish the visions from the forefront of his mind before he could continue. He explained what he did the next day, the graves, who was missing.

The Captain-Commander stayed silent throughout it all, never interrupting, expression unchanging. Sasuke tried to keep it as emotionless as possible; it was just another report, ancient history. (Except it wasn’t, not really.) Only when he finished did the man ask any questions.

“Why was this hollow any different from the rest?”

_It was a hollow, but at the same time it wasn’t like any hollow he had ever seen._

_It wasn’t much larger than a person, but its body bent in unnatural directions. The limbs were too long, too skinny, the spine protruding from its back. The nails that came in points like claws pierced flesh with ease. Its white mask was partially broken, likely from an attack by Jirou, if the cracks and the blood coating its head were anything to go by._

Sasuke didn’t know where to begin.

_Where the mask had been broken he could see an eye—a human eye that stared at him, assessing, waiting._

Looking back, he could see so many things wrong; things he hadn’t thought of at the time.

_The hollow did something that he’d thought was impossible for a skull._

He hated thinking about it.

_It turned around, standing on its two legs, and leaving Jirou’s body to turn towards him salivating._

It still haunted his dreams.

_His katana cut deep into the creature’s shoulder, but it gave no indication of pain, jaw unhinging and closing with a crunch over his left shoulder._

_Sasuke screamed, pain blinding him. He stabbed at it with the kunai wildly, the tip piercing various spots along the hollow’s back. It didn’t seem to even notice, releasing him only for its jaw to unhinge again to take another bite._

It left him awake in the night, waiting for an attack that never came.

_It impaled itself on his blade, and Sasuke inhaled sharply. His hands were shaking, but they still gripped the blade firmly. The creature was still moving, jaw clicking at it attempted to get a bite of him. Sasuke let out a small, strangled sound, the creature’s jaw only inches from his face, and he took the kunai that had fallen to the ground, impaling the mask._

But there was always one thing that kept coming back to him, above all else.

_The hollow did something that he’d thought was impossible for a skull._

“It grinned.”

The Captain-Commander’s eye opened, eyeing him carefully, and Sasuke rubbed at his shoulder, trying to stop the ache and throb of his old scars.

“Have you encountered another hollow like it?”

The answer to that was obvious; they both knew it. “No.”

The old man knew more than he was letting on, of that Sasuke was certain, but Captain Yamamoto simply nodded his head and dismissed him.

Sasuke’s eyes continued watching the man for a moment longer, but he’d never been able to decipher anything about the Captain-Commander, and there were other matters he needed to attend to, regardless.

He bowed and took his leave, finding Mio pacing in circles just outside. She turned so fast at the sound of the door opening she got whiplash, but she shook her head and grabbed onto Sasuke’s arm (his good one, this time), pulling him along.

“Sasuke-nii, hurry, hurry!”

Mio might’ve been the one rushing him, but Sasuke was definitely faster, picking her up with ease and pushing off into shunpo. It took the time to get out of Seireitei for her to gain her bearings from the sudden burst of speed, though she still retained a death grip on him as she gave directions.

It would seem they weren’t staying too far from Seireitei, and as Sasuke landed in an empty field somewhere around the border between South and East Rukongai. Sasuke let Mio down, the tall grass reaching up to his knees.

The area was quiet, peaceful almost, with the only thing before him a tiny shack of a house. Mio grabbed him by his good hand, dragging him forward through the grass and towards the house. There was a rickety fence around it, creating a small front garden where the grass had been sheered short and the soil overturned, little vegetable plants rising up from the dirt.

Sasuke stared up at the shack and felt sick. They had been this close to him, _alive_ , for how many years? How many years had he been running around idly in his safeguarded home while they were out here, at risk of hollows and bandits?

Mio didn’t seem to notice, the redheaded girl continuing to pull him towards the doorway. Sasuke didn’t protest, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to walk forward himself. He didn’t want to see his own failures (more proof that he was weak, that he’d failed _again_ ). But when he walked through the doorway and saw the tiny main room—a closet-sized kitchen and a table with two chairs filled it—he found a young man sitting there, holding a cup of tea and watching them both.

He had long, disheveled brown hair, so dark it was almost black, a small ponytail at the back of his head. He was thin from a lifetime of poverty, yukata as faded and worn as Mio’s, long spindly fingers carefully setting down the mug, as if it might break from the slightest bump. (And it very well could’ve, such was the state of the ‘house’.) He looked around Kurosaki’s age, if not a couple years older, but his green eyes looked much older. They weren’t the eyes of a child, and guilt held Sasuke to the spot he stood.

He didn’t look happy.

Eita stood, glaring at Mio, who shrunk behind Sasuke at the sight. Sasuke didn’t recognize this person.

_Sasuke sat at the table, the smell of food filling the little room as Anna did her usual in the kitchen. He watched as Mio waddled around the room, arms raised above her head so her hands could reach Eita’s, which she held tightly. Eita was forced to walk behind Mio as a result, back bent awkwardly with his arms stretched out in front of him for Mio’s use. Nonetheless, he was grinning, letting the little girl lead him around._

_Mio started walking Eita in Sasuke’s direction. “Sasuke-nii, move!” Eita’s tone was stern, but jokingly so, and Sasuke’s lip quirked in amusement as he picked up his chair and moved out of the way, setting the furniture at another part of the table. He watched the two of them make circles for a while before deciding he’d head out._

“Mio, what have I told you?! Why did you bring him here?!” His voice was rising and Mio clutched at Sasuke’s shihakusho.

Sasuke took a step forward, pushing Mio further behind him. “Eita,” the boy froze, looking up at him. There wasn’t joy there, but there wasn’t anger either. Sasuke wasn’t quite sure, but there was something like sadness in his expression. He had failed them all those years ago, but perhaps he could still fix it. “Come home with me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I’m thinking about posting some reference art for this story? I’ve had character designs of Genji, Anna, Eita, and Mio for a while now, and I could make some of Sasuke and Kurayami no Mitsu and Kanon and such as well. If I do, though, just keep in mind I don’t own Sai or photoshop or anything cause I’m cheap, so it’d all be paper and ink. (If I’m feeling up to it, I may even try drawing some scenes? Who knows?) I’m not as good an artist as some people, but I like to think I’m decent, at the least. :P
> 
> But to answer Andromeda’s question, Ichigo will definitely be involved in that arc, but it won’t happen till after the Winter War. ;) I do like to try to follow the canon as much as possible, so this next arc will not have Kurosaki (this takes place during the week before school starts and the arrancar are introduce; the bount arc takes place here in the anime) but it will feature plenty of Shinigami! :3  
> And thanks to Commander Blunt for all the reviews haha. ^^ I hope that shikai release chapter answered your question about the sharingan (it’ll come more into play soon when we get more action).
> 
> (Also, this arc is probably one of the least thought out chapters I’ve got, so how it turns out will depend entirely on readers’ responses.)


	15. Bones to Break and Choices to Make

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! I promise I'm still alive haha. :P

**22 August, 2001 – 24 August, 2001**

High-ranking officers were allowed to have their own residences rather than staying in the barracks with the rest of the motley crew. (Of course, that doesn’t mean everyone did. Kaien stayed in the barracks, though he and Miyako had been talking about getting their own place soon, back when they were still alive.) Captain Kuchiki preferred to stay at his own place while Abarai hung around the barracks (supposedly to keep the rest of the division in line, but Sasuke was pretty sure it was just because he was broke).

Sasuke, naturally, had gotten his own place a couple years after his promotion. It was small, with a single bathroom and two bedrooms, but it served its purpose. It was clean, but somewhat bare, seeing as he didn’t use it much. He slept there (if he wasn’t taking cat naps in the office), meditated there (if he couldn’t do so in the courtyard), and kept up his weapon maintenance there (if he wasn’t using the division facilities for that).

It was this seldom lived in space that Sasuke took Eita and Mio back to that evening. Mio dashed inside the moment he opened the door, marveling at the couch and squishy pillows. Eita trudged in reluctantly behind Sasuke, eyes sweeping about in what Sasuke recognized as a scan. He was looking for weak spots, possible traps, danger.

That bubble of anger within grew. What had happened to them after that day?

“Eita-nii, look!” Mio slid open the shouji, revealing the engawa and the small space outside. “We can put a garden here!”

Eita, for his part, didn’t look very excited. “It’s not our house, Mio. We can’t just do whatever we want to it.” The girl’s spirits visible deflated, but she glanced at Sasuke hopefully nonetheless.

What passed for a yard was a bare plot of land, and Sasuke never really had much use for it, given that the courtyard by the barracks was much larger and more useful. And really, he was hardly ever home anyway.

Sasuke shrugged and moved towards the bedroom. “Do what you will.”

He could hear Mio saying something excitedly behind him as he entered the bedroom. The bed was relatively untouched, if not a little dusty from disuse. He’d have to get those washed. With a sigh, Sasuke stripped the sheets, idly wishing he could use a jutsu to get it over with quickly. Since that was not the case, however—and Sasuke definitely didn’t do the sheets on a regular basis—he was going to have to bully one of the subordinates into doing it for him.

**“Ojima would do it without you asking.”**

Sasuke wasn’t sure he wanted to deal with the consequences of asking her.

“Sasuke-nii?” Mio peeked through the doorway, watching him with wide eyes, and Sasuke twitched. He hadn’t noticed her. _How the hell hadn’t he noticed her?_

He turned to her, hoping she hadn’t noticed his surprise. “I’ll need to wash these, but you can use the bed.”

“Ah, no! We shouldn’t take your bed! I can sleep on the couch!” Sasuke ignored her protests as he walked towards the doorway, dumping the sheets in hand onto her.

“I don’t use it anyway. If you feel bad about it, wash the sheets.” Despite his callous words, Mio’s face lit up in delight, gathering the sheets into her arms and rushing out onto the engawa.

“Sasuke-nii, where’s—” She didn’t have to finish that as Sasuke pointed her in the right direction, and in a few minutes she had the sleeves of her yukata pulled up and her arms elbow-deep in soapy water. Sasuke didn’t think he’d ever seen someone so enthusiastic about washing sheets.

He watched her quietly, leaning against the wall. He made no move of recognition as Eita stood next to him.

“She said you were sick.” Sasuke spoke quietly, too soft for Mio to hear, but enough for Eita. The boy went stiff, prickly, almost.

“Did she?” Eita’s voice was too stony, too hard to be natural. Sasuke looked at him from the corner of his eye.

“Are you sick?”

Eita didn’t answer, but that was enough of an answer for Sasuke.

 

* * *

 

 

_“Sasuke… Were your eyes able to see through it all?”_

_There was no malice in his voice, no anger, no fear. His brother was barely standing, barely walking, but still he put one foot in front of the other._

_Sasuke couldn’t move. He was frozen, but it had nothing to do with any sort of jutsu._

_Itachi lifted a shaking, bloody hand. “My eyes… Mine…”_

_He took a step back, and another, away from his brother. His feet were lead, the_ Kusanagi _in his hand the weight of a mountain. He drew it, struck, but what use was it? The blade was tossed into the air from the recoil—he had no more strength left, how was he still moving?_

_The force knocked him flat on his back, and Sasuke grunted. The world was sitting on his chest, and he shoved against it, pushed himself off the ground. He couldn’t stay down, couldn’t let his brother win. Not this time._

_“Who he deceived himself for, and dishonored his name for by killing the clan, just to protect…”_

_Sasuke tried to back away—he couldn’t let this man kill him, not him too—but there was a wall and he had nowhere left to run. Itachi kept walking._

_“Sasu… ke…”_

_Itachi lifted his hand once more, and every atom within Sasuke was shaking, vibrating. He couldn’t lose he couldn’t lose he_ couldn’t lose _. Breaths came heavy, every molecule of oxygen fueling his brain as he searched for another option, something he could do, something he hadn’t thought of yet. His eyes didn’t leave his brother._

_Itachi smiled. He smiled, and suddenly Sasuke was eight years old again._

_“Sorry, Sasuke… But this is it…”_

_And that hand—_

_Two fingers, a light poke, soft and familiar and heartaching and Sasuke was frozen as his brother fell,_ his brother—

_But his brother was gone. And Itachi was dead._

 

 

Sasuke woke in a cold sweat, his mind whirling and his body still shaking. He didn’t understand. Who was everything for? Why? _Why?_

He closed his eyes again, and he was back in the cold rain, lying in the mud and not understanding why he still felt angry.

Eventually, the former shinobi found himself sitting on the engawa, eyes open but mind blank, unseeing as the darkness began to fade.

Sasuke was slowly roused from his thoughts as the sun’s first light began to filter through, and he stood, moving through his morning routines on automatic, letting his mind take a backseat and his body take over for the moment. It wasn’t until he was at the door, fully dressed and faced with the morning sunlight that he blinked back into awareness.

“Sasuke-nii? Where are you going?” Sasuke turned to the younger two watching him. (He tried not to let them notice.)

“…Work.” Mio shuffled around, looking at him with her bright eyes, and Sasuke sighed. He jerked his head just slightly, but she got the message, beaming as she raced towards him, and then past him and out the door. Eita, on the other hand, trudged forward, trailing behind as the trio left the house and moved into the center of Seireitei.

To say people stared was perhaps an understatement. Sasuke knew others talked about him. There were almost always rumors of some sort or another going around about the Captains and Vice-Captains, what with their notoriety. Contrary to popular belief, most of them knew the rumors their subordinates spread. (Matsumoto often made sure of it.)

Vice-Captain Uchiwa Sasuke was the Demon Vice. He was cold and callous more often than not, and according to rumor, his glare could kill. The sharingan did not help matters in that respect. (Shinigami in other divisions wouldn’t even meet his eyes.) His background was a whole other story. When it got out that he was from Fox Track—or more specifically, That Village in Fox Track—someone had at some point begun a rumor that he was the mastermind behind the Incident. Some of the other Vice-Captains and Captains did their best to discourage it, but that only fanned the flames. It had become this big conspiracy, talked about only in hushed tones, and now here he was walking down the street with two survivors.

Mio was skipping ahead, running back and forth as if she couldn’t take it in fast enough. Eita trudged several feet behind, as if he couldn’t get away from there fast enough.

“Oi, Sasuke, good timing!” Abarai was grinning, a training sword in hand and a cocky tilt to his head. “I need some actual competition. Spar with me.”

Sasuke’s brow twitched at the command. “No.” He was fully content to continue on his way from there—and maybe get the rest of the paperwork done today—but Eita had grabbed onto his shihakusho.

“Can I watch?” He was smiling for the first time since Sasuke had found him, green eyes wide and excited.

_“Sasuke-nii, you’re back!”_

_Eita knocked the wind out of him, crashing into him before regaining his own standing. Wide green eyes looking up at him hopefully. “What did you bring back with you this time?”_

He grimaced, wavering. “I have paperwork to do.”

Abarai snickered, and his eyes were filled with knowing and malicious intent. “Nah, kid, he’s just scared of losing.” Eita glanced over at the over-confident Abarai before looking back at Sasuke expectantly.

Sasuke glowered at the redhead, teeth grinding before he managed to spit out a “ _fine_.”

He followed Abarai to the Eleventh Division training halls, seeing as the man must’ve come from there. Most of the Eleventh was still conscious, and Eita was looking around with the wide-eyed wonder that had been present in Mio earlier. The girl, for her part, had been sticking close to Sasuke from the moment they entered the building, small hands clutching his shihakusho.

Several of the present Shinigami took notice as they entered the room, Abarai waving at them to make room as he fetched another wooden sword.

“Looking good, Vice-Captain!” He couldn’t tell where the cat call had come from, but he gave all the laughing fools a look that promised death. That shut them up fairly quickly. (He would take care of them later for sure.)

Sasuke gently pulled Mio’s grip off him, pushing her towards where Eita had already found a seat against a wall. “Stay there,” he said as he unstrapped _Kurayami no Mitsu_ and the _Itachi no Kinen,_ setting them down before the two.

“Catch!” Abarai tossed him a blade, which Sasuke caught with reluctance.

“Let’s just get this over with.”

There was no waiting for a ‘go’—not that there ever was—and Abarai lunged. Sasuke blocked, a twist of his wrist sending Abarai’s blade away from him. Abarai had always been better than him in zanjutsu; it was probably a perk of being an idiot and a former Eleventh Division member. But it’s not like Sasuke was _bad_ at zanjutsu, necessarily. He just worked better with kunai or hand-to-hand than long blades. Of course, any fault he may have had in technique was easily made up in other areas.

Sasuke smirked as he tilted his head, the air by his ear _whooshing_ and he retaliated with a clean slice towards the midriff. Abarai must’ve had their last match fresh in mind though, and he jumped back, readying himself. Eita gave a whoop somewhere behind him.

Another lunge, block, slash, dodge. The _clack_ of wood on wood rang in his ears, and Sasuke was distinctly aware that all the other sparring had stopped. (Shinigami usually stopped to watch when captain-levels fought.) Abarai sliced, aiming for the chest, and Sasuke leaned back, using his superior flexibility to his advantage to turn it into a handspring, foot catching on the hilt in Abarai’s still outstretched hand.

As he regained his footing, however, Sasuke caught sight of Eita and Mio still against the wall. Eita was standing now, cheering him on, and behind the brunette Mio was curled in on herself, bright eyes peeking out from between her legs to watch Madarame and Ayasegawa crouched in front of her. Sasuke growled. The two idiots seemed completely unaware of how much like thugs they really looked.

There was a noise of triumph, and Sasuke turned back to see Abarai had regained his blade, grinning confidently as he swung at Sasuke. The excitement had definitely cost, and there was too much imbalance in his stance. Sasuke decided he’d had enough entertaining these idiots.

He moved forward, speed just shy of a flash step, foot catching Abarai on his supporting foot. The man yelped bending forward to catch himself, and just to be sure he stayed down, Sasuke elbowed him between the shoulder blades.

The man landed with a thud and a grunt as Sasuke stalked over to where Eita was jabbering excitedly with one of the other Shinigami. He didn’t hesitate to smack both Ayasegawa and Madarame in their thick skulls.

“OW!! What the hell was that for?!” Always hot-headed, Madarame was the first to respond, standing at his full height and whirling around to scowl at Sasuke.

“What do you think?” He hissed in return, driving the training sword into the man’s gut for good measure. He dropped the wooden blade in favor of picking up his zanpakuto, strapping it and the _Itachi no Kinen_ back to their proper places on his waist.

At his return, Mio leapt up from her fetal position, latching onto Sasuke and burying her face into his uniform. He pat her head once, somewhat awkwardly, before turning back to where Abarai was still kneeling on the ground, rubbing his back and groaning.

Probably feeling Sasuke’s gaze, the Sixth Division Vice turned to glare at Sasuke. “The hell man?”

“Blame these two idiots.” He glanced back at where Madarame was still groaning and Ayasegawa was fussing over his hair.

Mio made no protest when he began walking swiftly towards the exit. Behind him, Eita waved to the older man he’d been talking to before jogging after him.

“Sasuke-nii, do you think you could teach me how to do that?” He asked upon reaching Sasuke’s side in a kind of half-jog, half-walk.

Sasuke simply grunted in response.

They exited the Eleventh Division barracks and entered into a faltering sunlight. Sasuke squinted up at it with a frown, but continued moving at a brisk walk towards the Thirteenth. He spent his time steadfastly ignoring the whispers of Shinigami they passed and nodding absently to Eita’s chattering, not really paying attention but filing interesting or useful bits of information away for later. (It was a useful skill he’d picked up from Sakura and Naruto.)

It was a good day for a walk.

* * *

 

There was a moment of just… quiet, and then there was a cacophony of noise. The alarms were going off around them, the _clang clang clang_ rattling his bones. His good hand flew down to the hilt of his zanpakuto reflexively, but then he turned to the two with him, and there was a tension in his shoulders that wasn’t there before. Mio had moved back towards him, legs spread and tense, ready to run. Eita didn’t look like a boy anymore. Hell, he didn’t look _human_. His eyes were a green fire, fury and bright hot anger, and his body was hunched over, a feral creature ready to attack at the slightest threat. He had a shiv in hand, pulled out from some hidden pocket or sleeve.

It was then that Kuchiki dropped down before them, and while Sasuke had noticed her a good several moments ago, Eita clearly had not, and the moment her feet touched the ground, he lunged. Kuchiki started, hand reaching for her blade, and for a moment it was everything in slow motion. Sasuke lunged forward, ignoring the screaming of old scars as _Kurayami no Mitsu_ locked into _Sode no Shirayuki’s_ hilt guard, preventing her from coming any further out of the sheath as his good arm reached under the shiv, grabbing Eita’s arm and pulling up.

And then the moment was over, and Eita was writhing in his hand, kicking and growling. Sasuke shot a look at Rukia as he sheathed his zanpakuto, turning to the boy and twisting his grip. Eita’s eyes were wide and wild, his arm shaking but his fist still firm on the shiv. Sasuke twisted a little more, and the shiv rattled his bones as it hit the ground.

“Eita,” he kept his voice as calm as he could, despite the fact that his bones hadn’t stopped rattling since the shiv dropped. Sasuke didn’t recognize this person, and that knowledge shook him to his core. He didn’t know this person, this teen with the feral eyes and the closed features.

“Eita,” he repeated more firmly, and it was like he popped a balloon. The fight went out of him, deflating in Sasuke’s grip. When he was sure the kid wasn’t going to lash out at him, he let go slowly, watching the way Eita folded in on himself.

Sasuke didn’t comment on it for the moment—now wasn’t the time, he could still here the _clang clang clang_ of the alarm and the shouting of Shinigami running to their stations—but turned to Kuchiki. Mio at some point had run to her, clutching the older girl’s shihakusho and watching Sasuke and Eita with bright, bright eyes.

Sasuke shoved the feeling that arose somewhere deep inside of himself and shut down. It was time for business, and emotions had no place in that. “Kuchiki, what’s going on?”

She seemed to sense the change in his mindset, her entire being snapping into attention. “Vice-Captain, sir, there’s…” She stopped, a flicker of concern in her face. “Hollows are attacking Seireitei.”

“Have they gotten in?”

“No, it appears to just be low-level hollows, but the numbers they’ve estimated so far is in the hundreds.”

Sasuke’s frown deepened. “Do we know why yet?” She shook her head, and Sasuke sighed before grabbing Eita and throwing him over his good shoulder. The boy yelped, and Sasuke nodded to Kuchiki before taking off onto the roofs. He glanced back only once to see Kuchiki following with Mio on her back, ignoring Eita struggling in his hold.

Glancing over towards the edge of Seireitei, he could see the walls of the defense system and see the smoke beyond them. There was a distant shout of “Vice-Captain!” and he growled in annoyance as he jumped off the roof.

The two third seats were waving from the White Road Gate. As Sasuke landed before them, he could hear Jidanbo bellow from the other side. “VICE-CAPTAIN, SIR!!”

“What?” If that came out harsher than he meant, they didn’t react to it.

“We’re short on men and request your assistance, sir!” Sasuke let Eita drop to his feet, already moving with brisk movements towards the wall.

“Take the kids to the office.” He jerked his head towards Eita and Mio, the latter being set down by Kuchiki. “Kuchiki, come with me.”

There was a sudden cacophonous sound, a rise in the level of shouting, and suddenly there was a crowd of medics pushing their way through the chaos. Kuchiki pulled Mio into her, hand over the girl’s eyes as the stretchers passed them. It wasn’t pretty. Cold fury gripped his chest, his blood hot as he unsheathed his zanpakuto.

**“Let’s finish them off.”**

There was no need for agreement. It was rare moments like this, just before Sasuke went into battle, that he and Kurayami no Mitsu truly resonated on the same wavelength.

He turned to shoot off more orders before he left, only for his quick scan to stop at Eita. There was _guilt_ there in his eyes, overwhelming and crushing, and that was all Sasuke saw before Eita shoved past them all and sprinted towards the wall.

_Sasuke came home to a shouting match._

_The usually peaceful home was chaotic, and the Uchiha stood in the doorway as Eita and Genji screamed at each other. Anna was cowering in the bedroom doorway while Mio wailed._

“Eita-nii!” Mio tried to follow, but Kuchiki snatched her up, holding the girl easily despite her struggle. “Sasuke-nii, please!” She looked at him with wide, bright eyes, terror twisting her expression, but there was no need for her to ask.

_Upon seeing him, she gave him a silent plea with teary eyes._

Sasuke spun around and gave chase, but every movement he made felt too heavy, too slow.

_“Eita, where are you going?!”_

_Angry green eyes glared back at them. “Away from here! I’ll come back when_ he’s _gone!” The boy ran off—_

And Sasuke leaped over a stretcher, calling out, “ _Blind the heavens with your cry, Kuroyami no Mitsu!”_ The ribbon floated gracefully as lightning crackled along the blade, and everything around him was dialed up to ten. The world around him moved in slow motion, and Sasuke dodged around the chaos, the Shinigami, looking for a short head of dirty brown hair.

_The world was quiet, but it wasn’t the kind of quiet that came early in the morning. This was an apprehensive silence, as if the whole forest were holding its breath, watching, waiting. Hiding._

There was a calm that came with the violence, the fighting, that Sasuke came into upon rounding the gate. The quiet village scenery was gone, and all he could see was blood, bodies, and those nightmare masks. It came in brief flashes, too much happening to really take it in all at once.

_Sasuke stopped in his tracks, limbs frozen and muscles tense. Something wasn’t right._

There was screaming, everywhere. Human and inhuman. It was oddly relaxing, somehow. Cathartic, even. He knew this song and dance, excelled at it.

_He raced through the trees, feet flying from one landing point to the next. He did not falter or stumble on a root or a fallen nut, body completely in tune with the forest around him. He made his way towards the source of the sound, past fleeing birds and squirrels._

_The clearing came upon him suddenly, so great was his speed, and he stumbled to a stop as the world snapped back into focus._

But this time, Sasuke knew how this went. He didn’t stumble, didn’t falter.

_A large creature, more grotesque than anything Sasuke could remember, muscled arms the size of tree trunks and a torso thicker than that of any living creature in the area. Its head, nothing more than its skull, swiveled in a disturbing manner in Sasuke’s direction, cold bone from which beady red eyes seemed to glow within the yawning black abyss of what might have once been its eyes._

But this time, it wasn’t one hollow. It was thirty.

 _A hand came down in his direction, and Sasuke rolled out of the way—_ Jumping to avoid the swipe of a tail. He ducked under an arm, slicing up a hollow’s torso, lightning arcing off his blade and into the mask of another. Both hollows dissipated as their bodies collapsed, and four more took their place.

 **“There’s way too many.”** Kurayami complained, but it wasn’t worry in his voice, but rather annoyance.

“There’s not enough.” Sasuke groused, taking out another that got too close to the boy sitting frozen on the ground behind him. “ _Raikiri_ ,” he hissed, flicking the rest of his left arm to release the kunai from the hidden pocket in his shihakusho. The kunai crackled, white with the energy imbued within them as he flung them into the crowd.

Each blade pierced through at least three skulls before they lost momentum.

_Sasuke abandoned his only blade in favor of leaping out of the way as the other hand came down, swatting at him. He wasn’t quite fast enough to completely avoid the attack, and the glancing blow sent him rolling unceremoniously through the dirt._

That wasn’t him anymore. He was stronger, faster.

_The creature roared._

A hollow aimed for his weak side; the Vice-Captain was ready, and lightning arced off the blade as he impaled the creature, the lightning vaporizing it within moments. He repeated this action with another, and in this way Sasuke blazed through the masses, a dance of fury and blades, grace in the arc of his blade and strength in the twist of his limbs.

The horde was beginning to thin out a little, and Sasuke turned towards Eita, ready to give the kid a piece of his own mind, but Eita was only empty eyes and resignation. He mouthed something that could’ve been sorry, and stepped towards the hollows.

Something flashed through Sasuke, through his very soul, and he was back in time, back in Fox Track, back in Konoha. For a moment, time was fluid. There was no difference.

_He didn’t have time to think, just act._

The jaws of a hollow unhinged, gaping mouth yawning over the boy’s head. Sasuke grabbed the collar of his yukata, and pulled.

_His mind was hazy through the pain, but he caught sight of the kunai, still embedded in the creature’s fist. He couldn’t think, couldn’t really even process what was happening, but he grabbed the hilt and pulled._

_The creature’s mouth went slack as it shrieked in pain, and Sasuke winced at the sound. But he didn’t pause of hesitate as his uninjured arm swung up, throwing the blade deep into the creature’s white face. It went silent._

Eita gasped, a sudden intake of breath and emotion flooding his face, his lungs. He was shaking visibly as Sasuke ignored the pain in his arm, his shoulder, his back, slashing straight through the hollow, whose mouth was still open.

He was in Konoha, experienced and whole, and he threw the boy over his shoulder.

Only he was in Seireitei, and his arm couldn’t follow through with the motion, crumpling under Eita’s weight with enough pain to make him want to collapse. _Sasuke clenched his teeth around a strangled scream_ and sheathed _Kurayami no Mitsu_ , grabbing Eita with his good arm and _through all the agony he couldn’t feel his arm, couldn’t make it respond_.

Sasuke abandoned all thought and ran. It was chaos everywhere and he had to duck and dodge with three working limbs and an extra body of dead weight and the number of hollows seemed thicker than it had five, ten minutes ago. _The blood was warm and sticky against his skin,_ and Sasuke wasn’t sure when that had happened, but there wasn’t time. He kept running.

 _Someone screamed_ and at his waist the _Itachi no Kinen_ was humming and Kaien was asking him, _“Aren’t blades meant to be used?”_

_“The fight to protect life and the fight to protect honor. Do you think one of those is senseless?”_

Somewhere just below him he could hear Eita whimpering, sobbing, shaking, muttering over and over again, “ _Why? Why would you save me_? Why?”

 _Sasuke didn’t answer_ and the _Itachi no Kinen_ was calling to him, vibrating, shaking and _someone screamed_ and Kaien was asking, _“Aren’t blades meant to be used?”_

 _Sasuke closed his eyes_ , and kept running.

 

 

 

 

 

_“So what’s the katana for?” Kaien plopped down beside him, leaning back comfortably on his hands. The sun had only just started to peek out over the horizon, the early morning light dancing playfully across the dewy grass._

_Sasuke tried not to show the irritation at being interrupted, refusing to unfold his body or open his eyes in hopes that the man would leave him alone for another hour. He didn’t. Any attempt at trying to focus his mind and_ meditate _was damn near impossible in the barracks. “What do you mean?” He groused, trying not to and failing anyway._

_Kaien shrugged. “Well it’s not like you can hold them both, unless you lied to me when you said Captain Unohana couldn’t heal your shoulder.”_

_The third seat pressed his lips together. He didn’t want to talk about this. (Somehow, he thought Kaien of all people might understand, but that would mean admitting to some things he wasn’t ready to admit to.) He glanced over to his Vice-Captain to find the man watching him expectantly. There was none of his usual brusque humor there, but neither was he entirely serious._

_“It was given to me by someone important.” Sasuke shrugged, though his eyes couldn’t quite stay on his Vice-Captain’s face. He chose instead to watch the sunrise._

_Kaien raised a brow, and Sasuke could feel those eyes boring into his skull. “Well obviously, if you still carry it around. But aren’t blades meant to be used?”_

_He didn’t know how to respond._

_“…It’s not meant for senseless fighting.”_

_It was a stupid answer, and they both knew it. Kaien smiled. “Is there such a thing as senseless fighting, though? You know what the Captain told me once?”_

_He grunted noncommittally in response. Sasuke wasn’t particularly interested—he’d rather go back to his meditation, or at the very least, watch the sunrise in peace and quiet—but he figured he’d have to humor his superior. Kaien didn’t seem to care, continuing on anyways, despite the obvious lack of interest._

_“There are two types of combat: the fight to protect life, and the fight to protect honor. Do you think one of those is senseless?"_

_Something tickled the back of his mind, and Sasuke was sitting in the grass with Team 7 and Kakashi was talking about bonds and teammates. He didn’t look at Kaien._

_“…”_

_Kaien smiled. The sun rose._

 

 

(Sasuke remembered his answer.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shouji – the sliding door/panel in Japanese homes.
> 
> I was gonna end it on an actual terrible cliffhanger but holy hell I had to end it there. It was calling out to me.
> 
> Also that readers’ response determines outcome thing I mentioned last chapter? That mainly applies to whether or not Mio and/or Eita will live by the end of this arc… I haven’t decided yet. :P (I’d love to hear your opinions, though of course, my final decision will be for you to find out.)
> 
> So I get asked this question a lot? I do not have an update pattern, guys. I update when I finish it. My life is too chaotic for me to write on a set schedule, though I try to do it regularly. (So don’t freak out if I don’t update for several months or something. That means I’m either stuck or really busy; the story’s not gonna be abandoned.) On that note, I am so sorry this took so long. I’ve been juggling work, 16 hours of classes, getting ready to transfer, and moving to a different town, and the free time I’ve had has been dedicated to sleep. I’ve been itching to write again, oh my gods. I didn’t even realize how much I needed it till I started it. So the rest of the summer not a lot of writing will happen (I should be packing or sleeping right now but…) but once I’ve got some semblance of order in my life I can start actually doing what I love again.
> 
>  
> 
> REASONING: I’m gonna start doing this? Maybe? Because people can’t seem to handle things? Also because I felt like I needed to explain myself a little in this chapter. (Holy these author’s notes are long.)  
> Basically, for this arc, I’m looking at a kind of mix between the Sasuke I’ve created, the Sasuke that was with Team 7, and the Sasuke in Boruto. Obviously there’s some conflict cause Mio and Eita kinda came back from the dead, but I think it’s also a chance for Sasuke to deal with some heavily repressed emotions in that department. But in particular, in that last part, Sasuke has to make a choice. In the past, he’s always chosen to fight and take vengeance and so on so forth, and it wasn’t until the very end of the series that we really see him choose the other side of that and I wanted to play with that a little. He had to choose between fighting and saving Eita, and ultimately I think this Sasuke would choose the latter. He doesn’t have the same level of anger as canon!Sasuke, especially since it hasn’t really had time to brew yet, and compared to the personal quest of vengeance against Itachi for his family, this time it’s more focused on Aizen, which is something that this time he shares with the rest of the Shinigami. Whether or not that changes in the future still remains to be seen haha.


	16. Not Even Mothers Can Bring Back the Dead

**25 August, 2001 – 26 August, 2001**

 

 

By the time he returned to the safety behind the walls, Captain Ukitake, Hitsugaya, Matsumoto, and Ojima had arrived. Kuchiki was still there, Mio in her arms, and Kotetsu and Kotsubaki were gone.

“Sasuke—”

But his Captain didn’t get further than that, because Sasuke had dropped the boy in his arms. His chest was heaving from the exertion and the pain and the _Itachi no Kinen_ that was still vibrating, humming in its sheath. Every movement, every breath he took sent a shuddering of agony through his body, and his face was hot with fury.

“What the _hell_ did you think you were doing?” Despite the shaking in his body, Sasuke’s voice was deadly calm, a tightly controlled hiss. His eyes narrowed when Eita refused to meet them.

“I was… I just…” The brunette was still trembling, still sucking in damp breaths.

“Just what? You could’ve died, and _you knew that_.” Eita flinched visibly at his words, wrapping his arms around his body in a pitiful attempt at protection.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry, Sasuke-nii…” He whimpered, but Sasuke wasn’t done yet.

“Sasuke,” a calm, firm hand gripped his good shoulder, grounding him, and Sasuke took a deep, shuddering breath. His Captain watched him wearily, but nonetheless removed his shoulder. When Sasuke stayed quiet, (his teeth ground against one another, but if he opened his mouth again, not even the Captain would be able to stop him) Ukitake turned to Eita, crouching down and placing placating hands on his shoulders. “Son, why did you run out there?” He was all soft touches and kind words and Eita, who wasn’t used to kindness, who hadn’t had a father figure since Genji, gasped and shook as tears spilled down his face once more.

Sasuke deflated some.

“I couldn’t… I… It’s my fault.” He sobbed, hiccupped, clutched at Ukitake’s robes. “I couldn’t let them get hurt anymore, I…”

Hitsugaya cut through the blubbering. “What do you mean, your fault?”

 

* * *

 

 

The Shinigami had been ordered back in Seireitei, the walls still high and stained with the blood spilled from the fight earlier. The hollows’ numbers had thinned significantly, but several still milled about just outside. Sentries stood perched atop the walls, striking any that got too close, backing up the guardians that guarded the gates.

Meanwhile, the Captains stood in the Assembly Hall somberly and trying not to look at the three that didn’t belong there. Sasuke watched the Head Captain stiffly, eyes firmly not looking at the boy slouched beside him. Mio looked as if she wanted to hide behind him, but shuffled where she was, hands clutching her yukata, twisting the old fabric anxiously.

Ukitake was the first to speak, his voice soft and cautious. “Eita-kun, why don’t you explain to the Head Captain what you told us?”

Green eyes flitted up towards the Captain and back down again. It took another minute for him to speak. “A… A while ago, I got sick and…” He took a shaky breath, hunching over a little more. “Ever since I just… I attract hollows.” His voice went quieter and quieter, and his last words were practically a whisper, nearly inaudible if it weren’t for the utter silence in the room.

Unohana turned then, looking up at Yamamoto. “May I, Head Captain?” A curt nod, and Unohana stepped forward, kneeling down before Eita. He stared at her with wide eyes, and she smiled serenely. “Fujii-kun, my name is Unohana Retsu; I’m the Captain of the Fourth Division.” She lifted her hands towards his face. “May I?” He hesitated a moment, but eventually nodded, and Unohana’s hands traced his face, looking through his eyes, his mouth. For every moment that she spent doing this, the smile ever present on her face faltered, slipping further and further into a frown. “Fujii-kun, when the hollows come, do you ever feel physically tired? Your limbs feel heavy and you have a hard time staying conscious?”

Eita blinked, nodded. “Um… Yeah, I guess.”

Her eyes became very sad then.

Unohana stood and returned to her position, all eyes following her expectantly. _Claws had sunken themselves into the marrow_ of his bones, and Sasuke had a bad feeling. When she finally spoke, she addressed not the Head Captain, but Sasuke, her eyes sad and her smile gone.

“Fujii-kun has a rare condition that causes his reiatsu levels to fluctuate unnaturally. The hollows likely gather because the energy that’s forcibly released can reach up to captain-level. Unfortunately,” she paused, looked sympathetically in their direction, “Most people who contract it die before the year passes. From what I’ve gathered, Fujii-kun has had it for at least eight months.” She turned towards Eita, a gentle smile on her face. “To have lived this long, he must have a tremendous amount of reiryoku. You did well, Fujii-kun.”

Eita sniffed, not quite meeting her eyes but looking just a little pleased with himself despite the circumstances.

Captain Soifon huffed, hard expression ever-present on her face. “He put everyone around him, especially that girl, in danger.” Eita stiffened, biting his lip as if he were holding some choice words back.

Ukitake gave the boy a comforting smile before turning to the Captain of the 2nd. “I think he did the best he could, given the circumstances.”

Somehow or another, other Captains took this as a cue to jump in with their own thoughts.

“He was selfish. If he cared about the girl or anyone else, he would’ve moved far away from other people.”

“He’s a _child_.”

“The boy is old enough to think for himself.”

“How was he supposed to know it was his reiatsu causing the hollows to come?”

“If you let me use him as a test subject, we could find out if that’s really the case.”

It was too loud, too noisy, and with every added voice Eita only shrunk further in on himself. Mio had given up on all thoughts of self-restraint, hiding her face in Sasuke’s shihakusho. Then the Head Captain decided he’d had enough.

“ _Enough._ ”

 The singular sound of his staff striking against the floor resounded, a thundering compared to the suddenly silent room. Head Captain Yamamoto raised a single eye at the other end of the room, where Sasuke stood with the two children. Sasuke gripped his zanpakuto.

_An overpowering metallic smell assaulted his senses_ and Sasuke took a shuddering breath before he spoke. His bloodlust spiked, a result of some combination of anger and fear. His body was tense, his good hand adjusting the grip on his zanpakuto. He wasn’t in battle, but he was fighting tooth and nail. Another shaky breath. No assumptions. Don’t hope. “Can you save him?”

He was four years old and holding a dead bird and his mother had sad, sad eyes and Unohana looked at him like she was crying, though no tears glimmered in her eyes. He learned that day that not even mothers could do the impossible. No one brought the dead back to life. Every life eventually came to an end.

She shook her head slowly.

“No one’s ever been able to find a cure.”

The world went silent, and there was only the buzzing under his skin. A calm descended over his body, and it terrified him. He was fighting a war, and he was losing.

“I am sorry, Vice-Captain.”

Sasuke’s vision blurred red, and despite the shouts of the Head Captain and Ukitake, he turned and ran.

 

* * *

 

 

It wasn’t until he felt the blood on his face, warm and sticky with a taste like iron, that he even realized where he was. There were hollow corpses around him, a field of death and ash as they slowly dissipated. The ground around him was a sea of blood and _Kurayami no Mitsu_ vibrated in his hands with electricity and bloodlust.

**“We brought you here.”** Mitsu’s voice, calm and deadly.

_‘Why?’_

Mitsu didn’t answer for a moment. **“If we hadn’t, your anger would have turned on the closest person.”**

Sasuke flexed his hands; blood dripped around his zanpakuto’s hilt, and he wasn’t entirely sure if it was his or a hollow’s. This wasn’t him. He was always in control of himself, always sure of what he did and why he did it. At least, he was.

Sasuke took a deep shuddering breath and did not sheathe his zanpakuto.

**“Where to now?”** It was Kurayami that spoke this time. Sasuke didn’t answer, but just let his feet carry him to a destination.

 

 

 

 

It should’ve then been no surprise that he found himself in a field of tall grass, an ocean whose waves moved when the wind rustled by. It was quiet, deafeningly so, and there was nothing but field and the little shack. It creaked when a strong gust whistled past. As Sasuke got closer, he could see a section of the fence that had collapsed, the wood rotting in more areas than just the break. A few of the little plants in the overturned dirt looked somewhat withered, weeds and overgrown grass beginning to crowd in.

Stepping gingerly into the shack, Sasuke felt sick.

Now that he stood there, really taking in the fact that people lived here, he could see past the bare walls and the small size. The cracked mug of tea that Eita had been drinking the first time Sasuke found him was still there, the liquid within having long since lost its warmth. There was dried blood on the inside, dark and cracked on the rim of the cup, and the calm in Sasuke’s figure was forced.

There was a closet with three moth-eaten, tattered futons. The third Sasuke found stuffed behind the other two, covered in a near-black substance and alarming tears in the fabric that looked suspiciously like claw marks. Sitting on a small shelf just above the futons were the things that would’ve made him cry, had he still been young and innocent.

A makeshift _butsudan_ had been set up, several objects laid carefully around a faded and slightly torn picture of Genji and Anna. There was a watermark that stained a part of Genji’s face, as if tears had fallen on the picture, but that was unmistakably his obnoxious grin. They stood in the main street of the village, and if Sasuke squinted, he could spot the wood shop and Jirou’s forgery in the midst of people and sloped roofs. He could see the happy little street just as easily as he could see it covered in blood and death.

Sasuke picked up the picture gingerly, staring at it for several moments in a melancholic kind of quiet before he turned to the other objects.

The first thing he noticed was the weapon laid in the center, a blood-stained and somewhat rusted old kunai in Sasuke’s design. He picked it up, noticed the slight uneven weight, the imperfections, the chip in the blade.

_When the heartless monster reached for him again, Sasuke leaped just feet from where its fist landed, and this time stabbed at its hand with his kunai. The blade went in, but it wasn’t deep enough. The creature screamed, and Sasuke attempted to pull the kunai out so he could get out of its immediate range, but the blade held fast. He cursed; they weren’t perfect. His skills weren’t good enough yet._

He remembered this blade. He remembered the time he poured into it.

_His mind was hazy through the pain, but he caught sight of the kunai—_

Sasuke traced the dents and imperfections in it for a moment longer.

_—he grabbed the hilt and pulled._

He set it back before the picture, fingers dancing across the surface of the shelf before turning to the ratty stack of playing cards.

_Anna was already starting to make a meal when he arrived, Eita entertaining Mio with the oldest, rattiest pair of cards he’d ever seen._

The cards were in even worse shape than they had been back then. He caught a couple torn nearly in half, several stained or earmarked, all with fading ink.

_“Sasuke-nii,” Mio reached out across the wood for him, and Sasuke let her hold his good hand, playing with his fingers._

_“Sasuke-nii,” she repeated, “Eita-nii’s playing Good Fish with me.”_

_“It’s Go Fish.” Eita muttered, but she ignored him, more intent on trying to speak and play with Sasuke’s hand at the same time._

_“I want Sasuke-nii to play too. But you have to be on my team.” She emphasized her point by now tugging at his hand, as if trying to pull him over the table._

If Sasuke remembered correctly, they had belonged to Genji; the only part of his younger days that they knew about.

The one thing in good condition was the bone sitting on the opposite side of the cards, a rabbit’s foot that had long since been meticulously cleaned.

_Sasuke leaned carefully over the boy’s shoulder, trying to see what he was hunched over so protectively. “What are you making?”_

_Eita jumped, whirling around and clutching the object in his hands. “S-Sasuke-nii!” His face went blotchy and red in embarrassment, curling further around his clutching hands “N-Nothing!”_

_The older male raised an eyebrow skeptically._

_As predicted, it only took a couple minutes in the awkward silence for the kid to crack. Eita refused to meet Sasuke’s eyes as he uncurled slightly, removing his fingers but keeping his hands cupped carefully, as if letting Sasuke in on a well-kept secret. He was holding a rabbit’s foot; and given the sinew and bits of skin and fur still attached to the bone, it was from the one they’d eaten for dinner._

_“…It’s a good luck charm. I… I want to give it to_ anego _for her birthday.”_

Lying on the opposite side of the cards, sitting a little ways away from the picture and the other objects, were a set of chisels of varying sizes. They were small, chipped, and rusted, but they also looked as if they had been put into good use.

That’s when Sasuke took another look at the chairs sitting around the crooked table.

_“I’m going to make the most comfortable chair you’ll ever have!”_

He sat down in one of the chairs and stayed that way for a long, long time.

 

* * *

 

 

It was Captain Kuchiki that found him there, his tall and proud stature casting shadows in the late afternoon light. Sasuke stared resolutely at the tabletop, waiting for the lecture or the warning or the punishment.

But it never came, and he heard the barest shuffling of cloth as the Captain sat down across from him.

“The children told us where you’d be.”

Sasuke didn’t deign that with a response.

They were silent together for a very long time before the Captain spoke again.

“My wife had a terminal illness as well.” Surprise flickered across Sasuke’s face as his eyes darted up towards the other man. Captain Kuchiki’s face had not changed, but there was a softness to his eyes that Sasuke hadn’t seen before. “Even the best doctors could do nothing except to relieve her symptoms.”

When several minutes passed and he didn’t add anything else, Sasuke asked, “What did you do?”

“Her final wish was that I protect her sister as my own.”

Realization and understanding dawned. “Rukia.”

“When she was sentenced to death, I was lost. The oath to my parents to defend and follow the rules, or the promise to Hisana to protect her sister; which should I keep?”

“…Why are you telling me this?”

Kuchiki Byakuya looked at him with his slate eyes, piercing right through with the intensity of a man of noble lineage. Sasuke found it familiar in the oddest sense, as if he were speaking to someone other than the man before him, except it was a conversation that had never happened; not in this life, nor in the one before.

“Those children still need you. Even after the boy is gone, your sister will still need you.”

And another memory slotted itself back into place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Butsudan – Essentially a household altar/shrine in Buddhist tradition (though it’s unique to Japan). Typically looks somewhat like a cabinet with a religious icon (typically Buddha) and/or pictures/ashes/some other symbol of the deceased inside. (Think Hisana’s picture in Byakuya’s house.) It’s similar to the ofrenda in Mexican traditions.  
> Anego – A more informal term meaning “sis”, usually used for older females you respect. In this case, Eita is referring to Anna.
> 
> Guess who recently moved and currently has no WiFi??? Internet companies suck haha, but I think I’ve almost got it figured out. I legit had this chapter super close to done, and then chaos happened and I’m finally sitting down to finish it, and I am so sorry it’s been so long. I can never promise short updates I suppose.
> 
> So the next couple chapters will probably be kinda short? I wanted to spread them out a little to make the arc seem longer haha. But after the end of this it’s back to canonical plot and more fun things haha. ^^

**Author's Note:**

> 狐跡 – A rough translation of the district name. I’m not fluent in Japanese in the slightest, so if you are, feel free to correct me.
> 
> So, I normally post on FF.net, and this one will be going on there eventually, so don't freak out if it does. I also have no idea how posting things on AO3 works. I'll figure it out.
> 
> I’ll largely be ignoring anything past Aizen’s defeat cause complexities and issues in general with plot stuff. I may or may not include Ginjo and the Xcution arc, but that’s up for debate as of now.
> 
> But yah, tell me what you think! :) I'm really tired right now so these notes seem really out of whack, but whatever.


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